


Dirty Paws

by starswholisten



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cassian just adopted a dog, F/M, Nesta is a Veterinarian, and shipping ensues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-30 16:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 49,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8540209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starswholisten/pseuds/starswholisten
Summary: Nesta might not like people very much, but she has always loved animals. And now that she finally has her own veterinary practice, the dream she'd worked so hard for, she has everything she'll ever need. Even if her dog just died, and her sisters are both engaged, and she's still single as hell. Nope, she's fine.But when Nesta gets too involved in one of her patients' care, she'll realize that maybe she's not too attached to the dog... but to the dog's owner.***Rating becomes E at chapter 15***





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nessian_is_fire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nessian_is_fire/gifts).



Nesta Archeron was less than pleased when her sister walked into her office three minutes before she planned on going home.

It had been a particularly long day at work, and Nesta was not in the mood for human interaction. Not that she ever was. There was a reason she had always wanted to be a veterinarian. Nesta much preferred the company of even the most misbehaved animals to dealing with people.

However, that’s what she had been doing all day - dealing with particularly difficult pet owners and a whole range of ridiculous demands - and all she wanted to do was go home and curl up in her sweatpants with a book and her-

_No. Don’t think about him._

But no, ever since Nesta had opened her very own veterinary practice, Feyre had come running to her about every little hiccup and stomachache that her cat supposedly had, and she never hesitated to do so beyond Nesta’s working hours. It drove her insane. Nesta loved the little kitten, but there was never actually anything wrong with him. Ever.

“Feyre, I’m locking up,” she told her sister, already in the middle of bundling up for the brutal winter cold. Feyre stopped in front of her, and it was only then that Nesta noticed she didn’t even have her cat with her. She frowned. “What do you want?"

“Hello to you too, dear sister,” Feyre said as Nesta brushed past her and made her way to the door, pulling her keys out of her purse. She fumbled to find the right key and, frustrated, ripped one of her gloved hands off with her teeth to get a better grip.

Feyre chased after her. “Not so fast,” she called, putting her hand on Nesta’s shoulder. “Rhysand’s outside in the car with dinner and you’re coming with us."

Nesta rolled her eyes and huffed, shrugging out of her sister’s grip. “I’ve had a long day, Feyre. I want to go home."

“You won’t when I tell you the best part.” Feyre smirked, blocking her path to the door. Nesta scowled, crossing her arms over her chest, and gave Feyre a look that told her she had better move now or face the consequences. Her sister, always equally as headstrong, did not budge.

Exasperated, Nesta sighed. “Feyre, I’m serious. I am tired, I want a glass of wine and my bed. Besides, I need to get home to-“ She stopped, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Nesta knew she lost the argument when Feyre’s hand found her own.

Nesta was so used to using Ember as an excuse to get home after a long day at work that she hadn’t quite wrapped her head around the fact that she no longer had a dog to go home to.

“Nesta, please,” Feyre begged, and Nesta opened her eyes to find her sister looking at her with concern. “Rhys and I just want to have a small dinner. You, and Mor and Azriel. And Cassian-” Nesta grunted, shaking off Feyre’s hand, but her sister pressed on. “Come on Nesta. He rescued a dog a few weeks ago, and he’s going to bring him over. I figured it would help to be around a dog that’s not sick, since…” She trailed off, studying Nesta’s face for signs of emotion. She knew very well that she would not find any, not in front of her, not in front of anyone. Even if her dog had just died a week ago.

Caring for other dogs all day long… it helped. But being around one outside of work, without the pressure of practicing medicine, might be good for her. Even if it was Cassian’s dog. In the handful of times she had met Rhysand’s former college roommate, they’d always butted heads. Their equally fiery tempers and stubbornness never failed to cause a scene, and he agitated her to no end. Even if he was, admittedly, one of the most attractive men she’d ever met. But that was beside the point. He ruined any and all possible charm with his arrogance, and she really didn’t feel like getting into a fight tonight.

But she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a sucker for a rescue dog.

“Fine,” Nesta conceded, and Feyre gave her a small victory smile. “But what kind of food did you get?"

Feyre laughed. “Pizza."

“Perfect."

She locked the front door to her building as Feyre skipped ahead to the car, her wavy golden brown hair blowing out behind her in the wind. As Nesta felt the bitter cold on her face, she was thankful not to have to walk all the way to the parking garage where she kept her own car.

The heat of Rhysand’s SUV was blasting when she slid into the backseat. Her sister’s fiancé looked at her in the mirror as he greeted her, and in a dramatic gesture, placed his arm around Feyre’s shoulder as he pulled out of the parking space.

Never subtle, those two. Her sister had met Rhysand in college, and after a few months of circling each other, they had been inseparable. He went to a different, much larger university in the city, but in a city full of students, it wasn’t unheard of to mingle with people from other schools at a party or a bar. Only, after they’d met, they'd kept running into each other. The rest was fate, as Feyre liked to say. Nesta didn’t believe in fate, but she supposed Rhysand had been a saving grace for her sister. A pang of jealousy hit her at the thought.

Nesta had never expected Feyre to be the first one of the three sisters to settle down, even if Elain’s own engagement had followed soon after, but she supposed moving to a completely new city had changed things for Feyre. Nesta and Elain had been wary at first of seeing their youngest sister move so far away, where she knew absolutely no one. But Feyre had just gotten out of a particularly toxic relationship with her high school boyfriend, and she had wanted to start over. After seeing the light dancing in Feyre’s eyes upon being accepted to a prestigious art program up north with a full scholarship, they knew they couldn’t stop her.

And a year later, Nesta surprisingly found herself moving north to go to vet school. Now, they’d both made their separate lives in the same city, and they didn’t plan on leaving any time soon. It was a beautiful place, even in the cold winter, and Nesta wouldn’t want to have her own veterinary practice anywhere else.

The drive from her vet clinic to Rhysand and Feyre’s apartment was short - much shorter than her drive home to her house outside of the city. Rhysand had no shortage of money, having inherited his father’s company when he was only a year out of college, and having family with a luxury apartment in the center of the city had its perks. Nesta breathed a sign of relief as they pulled into the heated underground parking and made their way inside.

Mor and Azriel were already there when they arrived, to no one’s surprise. Hanging up his coat, Rhysand rolled his eyes and tossed his car keys to Feyre, who somehow knew they were coming and caught them with one hand. “Remind me why I ever let you have a key to this place,” Rhys said to Mor, who chuckled in response.

“Because you love me, cousin,” she quipped back, running over to give Feyre a gentle hug. “And because I take care of your cat for free."

Mor pulled back from Feyre and smiled at Nesta. She knew better than to greet her as she greeted Feyre - Nesta did not like when anyone hugged her. Ever. But she returned her friend’s smile as Mor sat back down next to Azriel, Feyre’s cat curled in his lap fast asleep.

Nesta took off her own coat and flung herself onto the other couch, yawning. The full extent of her exhaustion hit her as she sank into the pillows, closing her eyes. She had so much to do tomorrow, and she sincerely hoped this little dinner wouldn’t go too late. She had a surgery early in the morning and appointments late into the afternoon -

“If you fall asleep, I’m not saving you any pizza,” Feyre said, her knee nudging Nesta in the side as she sat down next to her. Nesta only opened her eyes to roll them, and shut them again promptly as Feyre grunted her disapproval.

She was pulled from her peace, however, when the buzzer began to sound, and someone got up to answer the door. Nesta’s heart rate picked up for some reason, and she went to take a deep breath, but a great, crushing weight landed on her lap and began to lick her face.

“Cauldron,” Nesta cursed as her eyes flew open and she beheld the enormous dog on her lap, wagging his tail and sniffing her everywhere. He was definitely part pitbull, and one of the biggest she’d ever seen, but he was incredibly friendly. Maybe a little _too_ friendly, she thought, as he stuck his entire face into her lap to sniff her. “Okay,” she protested, lifting his head and enduring a second round of persistent licking.

When Nesta heard a deep laugh, she looked up, scowling, into the handsomely arrogant face of the dog’s owner.

Cassian looked like he could be Rhysand’s brother, with the same tan skin and dark hair, but their similarities stopped there. He was much more muscular than her sister’s fiancé, which was saying something, considering both men had served in the army coming out of college. Cassian, however, now worked at a military academy, and he was much more fit because of it. Nesta couldn’t help her eyes wandering to the massive forearms Cassian displayed with his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, but quickly pulled her eyes back up to look at his face, lest he catch her looking. His hair was longer than when she’d last seen him, and it now fell down almost to his shoulders in messy waves. He brushed it carelessly out of his hazel eyes as he grinned down at her.

He may be good looking, but the pure cockiness in his grin had her, as always, deepening her scowl. The way he looked at her was as if he was accepting a challenge.

“Looks like someone likes you, Nesta,” Rhys joked, clapping his hand on his friend’s shoulder. Nesta knew he meant the dog, but didn’t miss the pointed look he gave to Cassian, who was still sizing her up, assessing her, smirking. His dog, noticing that his owner had entered the room, bounded out of her lap and ran to his side.

“You remember Cass-"

“What are you looking at?” Nesta interrupted Rhys, crossing her arms over her chest as Cassian raised an eyebrow.

He laughed darkly, and his deep voice skittered over her bones. “Nice to see you too, Nesta,” he purred, finding his way to an empty seat across from her. He didn’t break their eye contact. His dog, however, hopped up onto the couch next to Nesta, and she looked away from Cassian to lean down and pet him.

“And _clearly_ ,” Cassian continued, causing Nesta to roll her eyes, “I’m looking at someone who’s had a bad day.” She snapped her head up to glare at him, and he chuckled. “And you’re looking at someone who’s made it better.” He raised his eyebrows, gesturing with his chin to the panting pitbull beside her.

She scoffed. “You didn’t make it better. Your dog did."

“Okay,” Mor sang out, clasping her hands together and shooting a warning glance at Cassian, who looked like he was eager to start a fight. “Can we eat? I’m starving.” Azriel looked at her with a grateful reverence that said he hadn’t wanted to be the one to break up Cassian and Nesta’s bickering.

Everyone made their way into the kitchen, including the dog, who made himself at home right beside Nesta’s chair as she sat down. Sitting at Rhysand’s enormous dining room table to eat takeout pizza seemed a little ridiculous, but it was a frequent occurrence with their group. Dinners together were always considered family dinners, regardless of what they were eating.

Cassian sat down across from Nesta, smirking at his dog planted firmly at her feet. Nesta opened her mouth to make a sarcastic remark, but Cassian whistled loudly, startling her.

“Here, Falcon. Nesta might smell like other dogs, but that doesn’t mean she’ll feed them her pizza crust.” The pitbull padded over to him reluctantly.

Nesta felt rather than heard Feyre’s exasperated intake of breath beside her as she narrowed her eyes at him. “You named your dog Falcon…?” Nesta retorted. “You know he’s a dog, not a bird-"

“So, Cassian,” Rhysand interrupted smoothly, taking a slice of pizza out of the box in front of him and placing it on his plate. Her friends seemed hell-bent on not seeing Cassian and Nesta kill each other tonight. “What made you decide to get a dog?"

He smirked at Nesta, to her annoyance, before turning to his friend at his left. “I was volunteering at a shelter a couple of weeks ago. When I went to walk this one, they told me he’d been in there for a few years and still didn’t have any adoption applications. So I put one in.” He leaned down to pet the dog’s head and met Nesta’s gaze again. “The name came with the dog."

She scoffed, turning away from him and dismissing him entirely. Even if imagining him volunteering at an animal shelter made her a little warm.

The rest of dinner passed without incident, and the tension at the table dissipated as Mor told them about her promotion at work and Feyre shared the details of her next art exhibition. Nesta was deliriously tired, though, after about an hour, and asked Feyre if she could crash overnight so she didn’t have to drive the forty-five minutes to her house outside of the city. “Sure,” Feyre replied. “Rhysand can drive you to work in the morning."

“Thanks,” Nesta mumbled and went to make her way upstairs to retire for the night, when she found Cassian standing in her path, grinning.

She stepped back, crinkling her nose at him. “Yes?"

He laughed at her agitated tone. “I was only wondering if you had any appointments open tomorrow. Falcon hasn’t had a check up since… well, I’m not sure, considering the shelter is incredibly under-resourced and doesn’t keep very thorough records. You know how it is.” He shrugged. “But if you don’t want my business…"

“Don’t be stupid,” she snapped. She wasn’t going to turn down an animal that needed veterinary care just because he happened to belong to a prick. Nesta barely registered that this meant she would have to see Cassian again tomorrow, but for some reason that idea didn’t disgust her as much as she expected it to. She opened her purse and pulled out one of her business cards, handing it to him swiftly. “Come by around 3. Bring whatever records you have."

He smiled, a genuine smile. “I knew you weren’t half as cold as you pretend to be, Archeron."

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” she huffed, pushing past him and petting his dog on the head one last time before heading upstairs. His answering whisper echoed in her brain until she fell asleep:

“Oh, but I’d like to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a thing I'm writing for Maggie, my favorite future vet. I hope you all enjoy it. Leave feedback please, I love receiving your comments! :)
> 
> The title is from the Of Monsters and Men song of the same name.


	2. Chapter 2

To say the least, the next morning was chaotic. From the moment Rhysand dropped her off at the clinic, Nesta was in a working frenzy. After her morning patients, she barely had a moment to drink her lunchtime cup of coffee before she dove headfirst into her afternoon appointments.

“Do you ever rest, Nesta?” her receptionist, Cerridwen, asked her when she zipped past at one point in the afternoon.

“No,” she responded matter-of-factly. “I didn’t rest my way to my own practice before the age of- ow, shit-“ Nesta grabbed onto the edge of the desk as a searing pain in her knee hit her out of nowhere. She grit her teeth and closed her eyes, waiting for it to pass.

She opened her eyes to find Cerridwen eyeing her with a raised brow. “Are you-"

“I’m fine,” Nesta interrupted before her receptionist could chastise her further. "I forgot my knee brace at home yesterday and I slept at my sister’s last night, so it’s just a little sore.” Cerridwen continued to look at her pointedly. “I’m _fine_."

Cerridwen only shrugged and returned to her computer as Nesta released hold of the desk. “How many more appointments do I have today?” she asked.

Nesta waited as Cerridwen hummed and brought up the patient schedule on her computer. “Just one more at 3pm, it looks like."

Nodding, Nesta thanked her and walked back to prepare for the appointment. One more patient and she could go home, nurse a glass of wine at the fireplace, and finish her book.

It wasn’t until she saw the name on the clipboard of her final patient of the afternoon that she remembered. _Falcon_. Nesta sighed deeply and rolled her eyes. Of course, she should have known she would regret putting Cassian on the schedule as her last appointment of the day. What had she been thinking? She could have been going home now if she hadn’t let her feelings for a rescue dog get in the way of her normal wall of sarcastic dismissal.

Making a concerted effort to look professional, she adjusted her collar and brushed a stray hair out of her face before walking into the exam room.

Nesta’s first thought when she saw Cassian sitting in the chair beside Falcon on the exam table was _why does he look so good to come to his dog’s vet appointment?_ He was wearing a plaid shirt rolled up to the elbow and his shoulder-length hair was tied up in a loose bun at the bottom of his head. She instantly wiped that thought from her mind as he smiled at her, that irritating smile that made her chest feel like it was exploding with pure annoyance.

“Hi, Cassian,” she said tightly, turning to the pit bull wagging his tail on the exam table. “Hi, Falcon!” she said much more enthusiastically. Falcon licked at the air, whining for attention. “Looks like someone’s not afraid of the vet!"

Cassian laughed as she began scratching behind the dog’s ears and letting him lick her hands. She was glad for the ease in gaining the dog's trust and his lack of fear, for it would certainly make the appointment go by faster. She began her routine check up, looking at his ears, teeth, and eyes. “Looking good so far,” she hummed, patting Falcon affectionately on the head.

“So, do you usually only converse with the animals?"

She turned and tried her very hardest not to glare at Cassian, but really couldn’t help herself. Nesta typically kept a respectable degree of professionalism with the pet owners she dealt with, but she felt she had a bit more leeway with him. It would be out of character for her to act polite and kind with him, and she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. “No,” she said baldly.

He smirked at her, agitating her further. “I’ll get to you,” she waved her hand dismissively. "Be patient."

He laughed again, shaking his head as she checked Falcon’s heartbeat. The dog was panting slightly, but not enough to concern Nesta that he was overly stressed. So far, everything looked good physically and she could probably ask Cassian a few questions and be done with the whole appointment. But making him suffer the silence a little longer seemed like just the kind of break from routine she needed.

So, Nesta took her time checking his fur, looking at his teeth, and taking his temperature. When she finally turned to Cassian, Nesta found him watching her, relaxed back in the seat with his arms crossed, and she raised her brows. “What?"

Shrugging, he crossed an ankle over his knee. Before he could elaborate, Nesta turned around to the counter and picked up Falcon’s brand new file, leaning against the counter to take some of the weight off of her aching knee.

“So,” she started, and his eyes lit up with mischief at the fact that she was voluntarily addressing him and not her dog. “You adopted him from a shelter. Do they tell you how old he is?"

Cassian looked at her for a moment too long before speaking. “Why don’t you ask Falcon?” He chuckled at Nesta’s scowl and sat up, uncrossing his legs. “They said he’s about six."

Nesta nodded and wrote a few notes in his file. She’d guessed he was about six as well.

“What kind of food do you feed Falcon?"

“Uh,” Cassian rubbed the back of his neck absently as he glanced over at Falcon. “I typically just feed him a little of what I eat, some chicken, some beef-"

“Have you ever owned a dog before?” Nesta interjected, sounding harsher than she intended. Even though Cassian probably wasn’t one of those people who put their dogs on all-meat fad diets, she had dealt with enough of them this week to allow her brain to jump to that conclusion. And she felt she could get away with letting a little of her frustration out on this particular pet owner.

“Well, my parents said I was too much like a puppy for them to take care of two…” He flashed her an innocent grin that made him look that much more attractive.

Nesta scowled and rolled her eyes. “You need to buy him some dog food,” she ripped a piece of paper from her notepad and wrote down a few brands for larger dogs, holding it out to him when she was finished. He smiled and took the paper from her, brushing his hand against hers gently. Nesta couldn’t help the chill that went through her body.

Ignoring the sudden heat of the room, Nesta continued on with her questions. “Does he exercise?"

Cassian thought about this for a moment as Nesta began to routinely inspect Falcon’s joints. “I walk him when he needs to go out, but I can’t really let him run around inside, since he’s, uh, not really supposed to be there..."

Nesta turned to him abruptly and he trailed off, meeting his eyes. “Where do you live?” she asked.

The smirk returned and Nesta regretted asking before he even responded. “Wow, sweetheart, why don’t you ask me to dinner first?"

She glared at him as that brief wave of hesitancy vanished from his demeanor. This man was a piece of work, truly, having the nerve to flirt with her while she was working. “Don’t call me sweetheart, and answer my question."

He chuckled. “Someone’s wound a bit tight these days,” he mumbled, eliciting a near growl from Nesta as she turned back to Falcon to continue assessing his joints. “I live in an apartment in the city. No pit bulls allowed. But I couldn’t leave him in that shelter, it was way worse for him to live in a cage than a two room apartment. And I can take him out to the park when my landlord isn’t there, and I have my own back door exit from the building… I’m managing,” he finished uncertainly as Nesta clearly had stopped listening.

She was gently bending Falcon’s legs and noticing stiffness and a change in his entire demeanor as she assessed him. He almost seemed to be in pain, and yelped a bit when she picked up his back leg, breaking the tense silence in the room. Nesta looked over her shoulder at Cassian, who looked actually _worried_ , and she felt he at least deserved a soft smile to show that Falcon wasn’t dying. “Has Falcon been limping at all? Or have you noticed a decrease in what physical activity he does get?"

Cassian’s face was serious now, pondering, as he scratched the back of his neck. “You know, now that you say it, Falcon’s been a little slower and less playful since it started getting cold. And I remember someone at the shelter saying he doesn’t do well with extended periods of activity."

Nesta nodded, placing Falcon’s back leg down on the table and patting the dog’s head gently. “I think, given his age and his history of confinement and limited activity, Falcon has minor osteo-arthritis,” she began, picking up the clipboard and taking notes. “Joint inflammation, basically. It gets worse in cold weather."

Cassian stood up then, walking over to the table and scratching the dog behind the ears. His proximity to her made the room go from warm to stifling, but she continued looking down at the chart unseeing as he bore his concerned eyes into the top of her head. “So what does that mean?"

“He has joint pain,” Nesta said, looking up and realizing his face was far closer than she expected. She stepped back, using the clipboard in her hand as an excuse to go to the counter. “He’ll need to go on pain medication, and monthly physical therapy would probably do him some good. We have an in-house facility here,” she told him. “I’m assuming you don’t have pet insurance-"

“No, but I can handle it. He’s family now,” Cassian turned to look at the dog. “No going back, right buddy?” The dog licked his face and he smiled. Nesta couldn’t help the smile that broke over her own face, but quickly hid it behind a cough as Cassian looked up again. “Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, Dr. Archeron."

Nesta thought those words would give her some sort of profoundly unpleasant feeling deep in her gut. She thought it would be dread, misery, maybe even frustration. But it wasn’t quite that. It was more like… anticipation. And she didn’t want to think about what that meant, or why she could no longer bring herself to scowl at him, or why the hand he had brushed with his still tingled hours later, as she sat on her couch and stared absently at her unfinished book. She didn’t want to think about it at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Target Excerpt chapter! ;) sorry it's long

Cassian rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and took a large sip of his coffee before exiting his car, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets to avoid the cold bite of the wind. It was earlier than he usually managed to rise on a Saturday morning, but had missed his weekly visit to the animal shelter for Falcon’s vet appointment this week. And he couldn’t let himself skip a week entirely.

He trudged through the doors to the shelter and waved to the receptionist, who mumbled something about a new access code and that she was leaving in a few minutes. He nodded absently, trying to focus, but his brain was spinning. Being in the shelter had him thinking of nothing but that vet appointment, the grey-blue eyes that haunted his dreams and the scowl that he so, so desperately wanted to turn into a smile. He couldn’t shrug thoughts of her from his mind, no matter how many times she threw insults in his face, no matter how many times she rejected his advances. It was a new challenge to him, but it was so much more, too - there was something about her that made him unable to give up his chase. Something that made his heart race with anticipation.

 _Nesta_.

“You’re here awfully early,” one of the coordinators of the shelter, Nuala, called to him as he entered the kennels. A few dogs began to bark as Cassian rounded the corner, and he smiled at the empty cage that had previously housed his own dog.

“I missed them,” he said simply, running his hand over the top of a smaller mutt’s kennel. “Have they been walked recently?"

Nuala turned to the bulletin board posted just beyond Cassian’s line of sight and squinted at it. “Looks like we have one other volunteer out walking the dogs right now, but she hasn’t gotten to this side of the room yet,” she replied. “Have at it."

Cassian nodded once and gave her his winning smile before trudging over to the largest dog in the shelter. He grabbed a sturdy leash from the closet and a few treats before coaxing the mutt out of his kennel and into the bitter cold.

Despite the harsh weather, Cassian was always peaceful and content when he came to the shelter to volunteer. It wasn’t that he needed to come here for any particular reason. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone… _At least not intentionally._ He thought. _But that didn’t mean he couldn’t use his philanthropy to his advantage… A certain someone certainly seemed impressed when she found out._ Cassian smirked to himself as the dog circled in the grass to find a spot to relieve himself. He was limping slightly; this one was likely a rescue from the street that had been hit by a car. His smirk turned quickly to a frown.

Honestly, all he wanted was a day each week to help a few animals who otherwise would be ignored. Every dog deserved the love and companionship of a decent human being. Cassian would adopt them all if he could, but neither his landlord nor his wallet would be very happy about that.

“C’mon, boy,” he called to the dog, and walked toward the back door to go back inside. He pulled on the knob, but it was locked. It was then that he remembered something about an access code.

Cassian tried the old one from last week in vain, and realized they must have changed it. He felt stupid knocking, and knew that Nuala wouldn’t hear him anyway, considering she had gone into the kitchen to prepare meals for the dogs. He waited a few minutes, unsure what to do.

“Looks like we’re stuck here for a bit, buddy,” he sighed as he looked down at the dog, who had stopped, suddenly alert, his ears perked at some sound. When Cassian followed the direction of his gaze and looked up, he had to squint to ensure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. He would have been absolutely certain he was dreaming if the cold hadn’t been so sharp on his un-gloved fingers.

Because there, leash in hand and walking toward him - well, more like _stumbling_ toward him - was none other than Nesta Archeron herself.

Cassian grinned.

\----------

Nesta was definitely regretting skipping the caffeine when she arrived at the animal shelter that morning, half-asleep and bleary-eyed. Though she was not a morning person by any means, she’d signed up to volunteer that Saturday morning on a whim. She hadn’t volunteered in… ages. Years. Admittedly, she felt guilty about it, which was likely why she’d agreed so quickly when the shelter had emailed out a volunteer sign-up. For some reason, the monthly email she usually sent to spam had jumped out at her this time. So she'd forced herself out of bed, because she wasn’t going to leave those dogs without anyone to walk them.

Despite being around animals every single day of her life, she had felt a pull to this particular shelter ever since she lost Ember. It was where she had gotten him all those years ago, where she had seen him and his bright blue eyes piercing her from across the room and had instantly fallen for the little mutt. Even though she wasn’t yet ready to let another dog into her heart, she knew that when she did, that dog would come from this shelter.

The shelter had only just opened when she arrived, and she was the only one there besides the receptionist at the desk. After signing in, she refreshed herself on the shelter’s bulletin board, noting the back door's access code, and began to take dogs outside for their morning walks.

Her knee was bothering her again that morning - probably because it was below freezing - so she started with the smaller dogs that wouldn’t pull as much. Nesta took two at a time, walking laps up and down the street before returning them reluctantly to their kennels. They spent way too much time there, Nesta thought, and she hoped that they were getting enough exercise. She would have to ask the receptionist if any of the dogs needed to be examined.

By the time she had taken all of the smaller dogs on walks, one other volunteer had arrived. Nesta recognized her from many years ago, and knew she was probably one of the few actual hired staff at the shelter. The woman smiled at her as she walked into the kennel area and began to take her coat off, and Nesta simply nodded back. She realized that the woman was probably taking care of meal time, so Nesta was left on her own to walk the larger dogs.

She sighed, grabbing a more sturdy leash and one of the calmer looking boxer mixes, and then she headed outside.

The dog was anything but calm. Not a second after the cold wind hit her face, he began to pull, and pull _hard_. Nesta tried to tame him but he was simply too excited.

She walked him all the way to the end of the road before her knee started to get stabbing pains. Gritting her teeth, she ordered the dog to sit so she could wait out the pain. Nesta saw another dog walker in the distance standing at the door of the shelter as she stretched out her leg. After a few moments, she realized he must be locked out, so she sucked up her pain and went to help the hopeless idiot.

After a few minutes, when she was a little more than halfway back, the dog suddenly darted forward with a snarl, running and pulling Nesta behind him.

“Fuck,” she cursed as her knee buckled as she stumbled along after him, wondering why a dog that lived with so many others was so agitated about this one in particular.

But she was almost as agitated as the dog when she finally managed to pull him into submission, looked up, and saw that the fool locked out in the cold was none other than _him_.

This was not happening. Nesta blinked a few times, but she could not unsee Cassian standing just outside the back door of the shelter, grinning at her, controlling his own dog with complete ease. Like he did this every day.

She scowled.

\-----

Cassian chuckled as Nesta caught sight of him, finally getting her dog under control. He knew that one to be a hard walker, and knew she must not come around here often if she’d chosen to walk him voluntarily. “It’s quite a sight,” he said, "watching a veterinarian struggle to walk a dog."

Nesta smiled thinly, the same kind of smile someone would give an opponent before knocking them into the dirt. “You were watching me? Here I was, thinking I saw you trying to open the door for ten minutes."

Cassian stared at her, and she stared at him. “Hello, Nesta. Nice to see you."

She only scowled harder, and patted the dog on the head as she pierced his soul with those icy eyes. “What are you even doing here?” she asked.

He smirked, leaning against the door. “I volunteer here every week."

Nesta looked him up and down. Assessing. Her gaze might have sliced him in half if he hadn’t been used to it, coming from her. Instead it felt like flames licking at every inch of his body. “Every week?"

“Yes, every week.” He crossed his arms in front of him and chuckled again as she looked down at the dog beside her, dismissing him. “I’m one of the senior volunteers, actually. And I adopted Falcon from here. I assume you don’t volunteer too often if you didn’t recognize him the other day."

Her head snapped up, an angry expression boiling on her face. That had hit a mark.

“Why should I bother defending myself to a male who is so puffed up on his own sense of importance there’s barely enough space in the room for his enormous head?"

Cassian blinked, his grin fading. “And I thought we had gotten on so well the other day, sweetheart,” he purred.

“I like your dog, not you.” Nesta rolled her eyes and shifted her stance, bending one knee slightly so she had all of her weight on one leg.

She clearly wasn’t a morning person, and he was freezing his ass off. She seemed to be cold too, though she had the sense to wear some damned gloves. He couldn’t say the same for himself. So he walked toward her, hands in fists at his sides and the dog trudging behind him, and stopped only inches before her. She didn’t flinch; in fact, she straightened that bent knee and held her head higher, eyes never leaving his own. “Do you have the code?"

Her eyes sparkled with mirth. “Senior volunteer, and yet you can’t follow simple directions to look up the new code. You cannot cow me with words, so you seek to intimidate me through your hulking size."

“ _Hulking_ -"

“You need me far more than I need you. So I suggest you tuck those fists into your pockets and ask nicely before you get frostbite."

Frostbite, indeed. This woman was colder than the below freezing temperature today. And yet, something about her seemed warm, burning, like fire. And damn it all, he was drawn to it. He could almost feel the flames coming off of her, and he wanted to jump right into them. Cassian would welcome the pain of getting closer to her.

Damn it all, he dared that step closer, not breaking their eye contact. Cassian softened his gaze as the cold mist of her breath floated up and mixed with his own. And she was so close now that he could practically hear her heartbeat speed up, and that was all the encouragement he needed. He dipped his head forward, dark hair sliding in his face, and purred, “There are other ways I could play nice, Nesta Archeron."

\------

If it was below freezing, why was Nesta so goddamn warm?

Cassian, the prick, stared down at her from mere inches away, and despite the fact that she could see both of their breaths, she was burning up. It was exactly as she had felt when he’d stepped too close at her office, only a million times worse, because she had absolutely nothing to blame it on. There was frost on the ground, for gods sake.

It was his eyes that burned through her, hazel and bright, assessing everything that she was and stripping her bare. It sent a sudden, unexpected shiver down her spine.

“Cold, sweetheart?” Cassian breathed, that grin returning in full force to make her weak in the knees in a way that had nothing to do with the knee pain. “We could warm each other up."

Oh, he was really pushing her now. Nesta threw her walls back up to remedy any reaction to that cool, cocky voice, and gave him a smile. A challenge. “If I wanted a male pawing at me, I’d sooner ask one of the hounds,” she replied evenly, with a flick of her gaze to the two dogs that still accompanied them.

Cassian laughed sharply, almost shaking Nesta from her defiant stance, chin held high and eyes blazing. Almost. He dipped closer, enough so that she could see his pupils enlarging, the twitch of his brow as he went for the throat.

“Have you ever been with a male, Nesta?"

Nesta pursed her lips and crossed her arms over his chest, careful not to touch him. “Have you?"

His answering chuckle skittered over her bones. “I asked first, sweetheart. Unless you prefer females? Or perhaps, the company of your dogs?"

She narrowed her gaze, fighting with everything she had not to lash out. Nesta didn’t think she could control all of the conflicting emotions roiling within her enough to merely portray anger. “Who and what I prefer,” she bit out, teeth clenching, “is none of your concern. Nor is-"

“You haven’t answered my first question,” Cassian interrupted her, fueling her fire even more. It was almost as if he was enjoying pissing her off. “Or are all these other questions a diversion?"

“What’s it to you?"

“More questions."

Cassian’s smirk was reaching unnaturally arrogant levels, and Nesta knew he held the upper hand. She needed to change the game before she lost all sense of her pride.

She moved closer, daring to touch him now, a hand finding his chest and pressing into his leather coat. Every bone in her hand, every inch of flesh, nearly caught fire. But she persisted, and pressed her body into him just slightly. Cassian stiffened, his eyes darkening. The desired effect. Now to tear him down.

“No, I haven’t,” Nesta purred back, grabbing at the coat. “Why should I have bothered? I spend enough time around animals, and that’s all men are. I’d rather use my own hand than sully myself with theirs."

That wasn’t quite the truth, and she couldn’t help her mind wandering. Back to her past. Back to her first year of vet school, on top of the world, finally with her professional life together enough to allow herself to have an _actual_ life. When she’d met Tomas.

He’d seemed nice enough at first, and he was certainly smart - he’d just graduated medical school and was working as a resident in her city - but things had changed quickly. It was Nesta’s first relationship, her first time trusting someone enough to let down her walls for them, and he’d taken advantage of it. She could still remember the crashing of the mug on the floor - the one Elain had given her, with the bunnies on it - and the tearing of her favorite dress -

Nesta had escaped. She knew most women didn’t, couldn’t - but she had been lucky. And instead of letting it affect her studies, she dove into them, shut herself behind a wall of iron and ice, and had flown through school with flying colors. And no friends.

She never told anyone. Not even Feyre.

And even now, she still berated herself, blamed herself. She’d allowed him to ruin her. And she wouldn’t let another male tear her life apart like that ever again.

It was then that she felt Cassian shift, and Nesta refocused her gaze to see his face contort to rage. The blazing fire in his eyes was so intense that Nesta felt her breathing hitch. She must have been staring into space for longer than she thought.

“Who,” he grumbled, his voice deeper and more lethally calm than she had ever heard.

And those walls, despite having wavered in the moments of recalling her past, stayed in tact. “I don’t know what you’re taking about."

Nesta felt panic seize her, and she went to drop her hand from his chest before his own caught it there. Holding her there, anchored to him, the gentleness of his touch not matching what she saw on his face. “Did someone hurt you?” he asked, more quietly this time.

His hand was so warm, despite the lack of protection from the cold. “Would it change anything if someone had? Would it make you see me differently, treat me differently?"

“It would make me hunt them down, and it would make me wish that my pit bull was actually vicious enough to help me break every bone in their body."

He spoke it hard and true - a promise. A vow. “You don’t know me. I’m your vet, your friend’s fiancè’s sister. Why bother?"

“I’d do it for anyone,” Cassian confided.

It was in that moment that Nesta felt he might be different from other men. The thought scared her, but it came regardless. The way he uttered his promises was unlike the way she’d heard in the past - half-heartedly, jokingly, dismissively. Cassian sounded sincere, and it was everything in her not to react.

She felt everything in that moment. She felt uneasy and vulnerable next to him, unsure whether she would pull away or lean forward or leap into action at any given moment. She felt grateful, and safe, looking into the hazel eyes that anchored her to something new but familiar. And she felt rage at the change in her perspective, at the complete nerve of this male to come into her life and shatter her well-founded expectations.

Most of all, she was completely baffled that he could see through all of those feelings, while even she couldn’t sort through her own mind, and could sense which emotions were strongest and closest to the surface and deep, deep down in the pits of her heart.

His hand moved against hers then, and Nesta realized she’d been staring. She blinked slowly, her mouth parting, a final wisp of foggy, cold breath mingling with his as he sensed those surfacing emotions and leaned forward, his nose grazing her neck. And damn it all, she tilted her head back, granting him access.

All thoughts eddied from her head as his warmth seeped into her, flames cackling up her throat as he moved. She felt his breath on her, and a small sound released from her unbidden as his lips moved to brush where his nose had been.

Nesta was burning, trying to hold herself up, trying to gather her thoughts - anything. But all she could feel was his lips, his mouth, his heartbeat against her hand as she gripped his leather jacket tighter. Her cheeks were flushed - she could feel them - and it wasn’t from the cold.

It was too much, it was overwhelming. Heat seared in her core and her hand struggled to keep the grasp on the leash she was holding.

A leash. Right. She was at an animal shelter, she was standing in plain view -

When his tongue brushed her throat, lightly, as if testing the waters, she jolted back.

As she moved, her knee buckled painfully, and she cursed as she kneeled to the ground, a hand at her throat. Nesta cursed herself for forgetting her knee brace, the dog beside her for coming up and licking her face, and the man before her, chuckling as she grimaced in pain.

\----

Gods, this woman. She would be the death of him.

Everything about her intrigued him, and he wanted all of it. Her rosy lips, pressed against his. Her slender hands anchored to his chest, or wandering in other places. He even wanted her broken past, the one that he’d seen in her eyes. Cassian wanted to prove to her that some males had valor, some gave a damn about the people in their lives. He gave a damn about her.

And when he’d moved, he hadn’t been thinking - he wasn’t sure if it was the cold or the fog of lust addling his brain, but the tilt of her neck was all he needed to strip down her walls.

Cassian held back. He so desperately wanted to kiss her and more, but he knew that it would be too brash. Hell, this was probably too brash, but he would build that trust in any way he could. He had been right, and when he had taken a daring move and brushed his tongue at her throat, she’d pulled back hard enough to fall, hissing in pain as her knee hit the ground.

“Wound a bit tight these days, Nesta? Or did your knees actually buckle from how much you wanted me just now?” He held out a hand for her to take, smirking, and she ignored it.

“More like you touching me causes me physical pain,” she sneered back.

She was lying through her teeth - he could see her well enough to know that. “Did it bother you more that you wanted it, or that it was me who made you feel such things, Nesta?"

A smiled played at her face as she stood up, brushing frost from her pants. “It’s been a long winter. Beggars can’t be picky, I suppose."

Her walls slammed back up, and Cassian felt defeated for the first time in a very long while. He was not done with her - oh no, quite the opposite - but the battle would have to continue another day. “If you’re as cold as your attitude, I’m assuming you’re ready to give me that code now."

She simply glared at him, and it only fueled his fire.

“It’s easier, isn’t it,” he drawled, “to wield the words and coldness as armor, to hide behind your devotion to animals and avoid people who would force you to open up, to keep everyone from seeing the loneliness that eats away at you-"

Faster than most people would see, but too slow for him, Nesta aimed one of those faulty knees right for his groin. Cassian reached a hand out just in time, blocking her, and squeezed hard enough for her to hiss.

“Cheap shot,” he snorted. “Come play with me, Nesta, and I’ll teach you far more interesting ways to bring a male to his knees."

She wrenched her knee from his grip and stumbled backward, and Cassian reached out an arm to grab her around the waist and keep her from falling. “Now, this is what I call warming each other up."

“I’ll show you warm,” she half-mumbled, half-snapped, as she surged for him.

He expected her to hit him. Strangle him, even. But he did not expect her hands to find his face, gloved fingers lacing through his hair to pull his head down.

Cassian’s breathing quickened as their faces neared and she pressed against him, all thoughts leaving him as he damned it all to hell and closed his eyes.

A sudden pain exploded between his legs as that knee found its mark, forcing him backward. He landed hard on his ass.

 _Bitch_ , he thought as he groaned in agony. The dogs began to bark and Nesta settled them before stepping forward, looming over his body sprawled on the cold ground.

“My knees might be shit,” she jeered, “but they’re not entirely useless."

“ _You_ ,” Cassian coughed out.

“The code is 2831. Tell Falcon I said hi,” Nesta mused as she took both dogs, sauntered up to the back door, and slipped through without another word.

He didn’t even bother going back inside. Cassian merely picked himself off the ground, leaving his dignity behind, and fumbled toward his car.

And despite his rage, despite the pain still searing below his belt, he couldn’t help but think, _You win this round, sweetheart. Until next time._

He could feel her icy blue gaze on his back the whole drive home.


	4. Chapter 4

“Here, Falcon,” Cassian called out to his dog in the hopes that he wouldn’t chase the tennis ball he had just thrown all the way into the frozen pond. It was an unseasonably warm winter day, so Cassian had taken Falcon to the park in the center of the city for a bit of exercise. The pond there was more or less half muck, half slush, and the ball had landed smack in the middle of it. And Cassian didn’t particularly feel like fishing Falcon out of that mess.

His dog stopped several feet away from the pond, however, and turned around at the sound of his name to come running back. The pitbull had really taken to Cassian these last weeks - he responded well to commands and was hardly any trouble off-leash. He was truly the perfect dog for a former army man, used to having order and obedience.

He could think of at least one person who could challenge that expectation in his life. Not that he’d ever want to order her around, or for her to ever allow him to - he found he quite liked a woman with a little bit of fire.

Or, when it came to Nesta Archeron, a lot of fire.

Cassian’s groin ached at the memory of her knee jamming itself there just under a week ago, and while it had hurt - his pride more than anything - he couldn’t help but smile at the sheer nerve she’d had, the desperation to come out on top that had fueled her actions.

Because he’d almost had her. He had gotten under her skin, felt her rapid heartbeat and heard her breathless gasps, and he hoped that he would find an opportunity to do it again.

Falcon sat at his feet and looked up at him expectantly, waiting to continue their game of fetch. “Buddy, your ball is in the pond,” Cassian told the dog as he patted his head. “It’s about time we headed home anyway."

He threw his discarded jacked over his arm and hooked the leash onto Falcon’s collar, watching as the pitbull bounded happily onto the walking path. His limp was barely noticeable today, and he seemed happy and energetic now that he had some pain medication in his system. It was the perfect day to get a little exercise himself, so Cassian decided that they would walk home, despite the time it would take. Falcon was completely fine to continue his exercise, and the warmth of the sun was a rarity in late January that Cassian wanted to take full advantage of.

Cassian passed Rhysand’s place on the way home, and dropped in briefly, as he often did. Feyre was more than delighted to question him about his appointment with Nesta. Not wanting to go into the gory details of their encounter at the shelter, he’d merely mumbled about her family being full of bossy, know-it-all females, much to Rhys’s amusement.

He left just after sundown, needing to get home to feed Falcon, and was starving by the time he arrived at his apartment downtown.

“Remember, Falcon,” he whispered as he rounded to the back of the building. “Quiet feet, no barking."

It was routine now to sneak into his own apartment through the back door, and Cassian was rather used to the darkness of the stairwell and the constant anxiety of being seen before getting to his door on the third floor. He hadn’t been lying when he told Nesta he was managing, but it was getting increasingly harder to coax Falcon quietly up the stairs, especially after a long day of exercise. His joints were finally getting to him, and Cassian decided to suck it up and picked up the pitbull to carry him the rest of the way.

Cassian was thinking about how this new method actually worked quite well when he opened the stairwell door to the third floor and saw his landlord standing at his apartment door.

He cursed silently. There was nothing subtle about a huge, muscular man barging through a creaky door holding a pitbull. The landlord snapped his head to the two of them, narrowing his eyes, and Cassian resigned himself to his fate.

“Devlon,” Cassian addressed his landlord non-chalantly, placing Falcon on the ground with grace. “What can I do for you?"

Devlon stood his ground as Cassian and Falcon walked toward him, eyeing only the dog. None the wiser, Falcon pulled forward just enough to stand at his feet, wagging his tail and whining for attention.

Ignoring the dog, Devlon finally looked at Cassian, and he could see the fury in the landlord’s eyes. “You know this is a pet-free facility, Cassian.” It wasn’t a question. Cassian had lived there for years, and re-signed the lease enough times to know the rules.

“And a pitbull, no less,” Devlon sneered, huffing in disgust. "Get rid of it,” he added without fanfare, turning around to stalk down the hallway in the opposite direction.

“Wait,” Cassian called, succeeding only in getting Devlon to stop in his tracks. “He’s sick, Devlon. He can’t go back to the shelter-"

“Doesn’t look sick to me,” his landlord interrupted, turning his head to glare at Cassian again. “Get rid of it, or you face eviction. Don’t make me evict you, Cassian. You’re one of the few who pays rent on time."

And with that, Devlon threw open the stairwell door and left without another word. In his panic, Cassian briefly thought that he wouldn’t be paying his rent on time that month.

 _Shit_. Cassian’s mind was racing. No part of him wanted to succumb this poor dog to his lonely life in the shelter after finally finding him a home. And now, with Falcon’s diagnosis, he didn’t know if they would even be able to afford the extra attention he needed. How was he going to get his medicine every day, or go to physical therapy, or get enough exercise?

He knelt down on the floor next to Falcon, who licked his face in response. This dog was such a sweetheart, and it broke Cassian to have to give him up. But he could visit the shelter more often, spend most of his time with Falcon, and look for a new apartment that would allow Falcon to live there.

Yes. It would work out. It had to.

But first, Cassian had to ensure that he had everything Falcon needed to ensure he stayed healthy in the meantime.

\-----

Huffing, Nesta shed her scrub top and threw on her sweatshirt, blissfully done with work for the weekend. It had been a long day, but a good one, if Nesta was being honest. It had been one of those days that reminded her why she loved what she did, and she was in a particularly good mood.

That was, until she heard someone trying to open the front door.

Nesta groaned, grabbing her winter coat as she turned the lights off in the back of her office and stomped to the front door. “Feyre, seriously,” she called out, rounding the corner. “You can’t keep doing this-"

She stopped dead when she saw Cassian at the door, looking cold and incredibly distraught.

“Cassian,” she said breathlessly, running to the door and unlocking it. “Is Falcon-"

She noticed the pitbull beside him as he stepped inside, guiding the dog along with him. But Falcon looked… fine. Happy, even. He was wagging his tail and sniffing at the floor, and when he looked up at Nesta, he began panting in an enormous smile.

Nesta crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow as Cassian looked down at his dog. “Do you make a habit of getting locked out in the cold, or are you just intentionally trying to piss me off?"

Cassian shook his head, still looking down. “I’m sorry I’m here so late. I just-“ His voice was quiet and resigned, and Nesta was taken aback by the sincerity of it. “I was wondering how much of his medication you could give me at one time.”

“What do you mean? I-"

He looked up then, and she saw there was no fight in his eyes. She had never seen him look so lost, lines etched into his face with worry. Something was definitely wrong.

“I have to- I have to take him back. To the shelter.”

Nesta’s heart dropped. “What do you mean, take him back? Cassian-"

“My landlord found him. Nesta please,” he begged her, and she couldn’t help how her eyes widened in surprise. “This is hard enough as it is. Can you just give me anything he would need for an extended stay there?"

Nesta’s head was spinning. “Slow down,” she ordered, and guided him to sit in a chair meant for waiting patients. “First of all, you’re not taking him back there."

He couldn’t. After all that dog had gone through to get adopted, after seeing for herself how short-staffed and low on resources the shelter was, she wouldn’t allow it. Not when he had found a home with Cassian, with someone who truly cared for him.

“What am I supposed to do, Nesta? I’ll be evicted,” he growled with frustration, running his hands through his long, dark hair. “I just want to make sure he doesn’t get worse before I can find a new place to live."

Still standing, Nesta scoffed and fell into the seat across from him. “That was your plan? Bring him back to the shelter until you can find an apartment that allows dogs? You know how bad the housing market is in this city. That will take months, a year even, Cassian."

He buried his face in his hands and mumbled, “I know."

Shit. This was a bad situation, Nesta realized. This dog wouldn’t survive very long in a confined space in his condition, especially without the opportunity to spend more than an hour a day outside of his kennel. Even if Cassian managed to find a new apartment so he could re-adopt Falcon, the months at the shelter would leave lasting damage to his mobility, medication or no.

It was not something Nesta could stomach.

And she didn’t know if it was because she had a good day, because she was attached to the adorably friendly face of this dog, or for some other reason she wouldn’t face, but she made a decision.

“He’s not going to the shelter,” she said, meeting Cassian’s gaze. “Because I’m taking him."


	5. Chapter 5

Cassian bristled. "What?"

"I'm taking him," Nesta repeated with conviction, her eyes blazing. "There's no way he's going to a shelter when I have the space, I have food and toys and-" She cleared her throat, breaking eye contact and looking down at Falcon. She looked close to tears for a moment, but she recovered so quickly Cassian might have been imagining it.

“And,” she continued, "he can come to work with me, and still get his physical therapy." Nesta nodded to herself, as if she was sorting through pros and cons of the situation. She pursed her lips together and softly repeated, “I’m taking him."

She still wasn't looking at him, but Cassian just stared at her.

"I-" he started, choking out the word. He didn't know what to say, how to react. He was so used to making every response to her sound like a challenge or a comeback that for the first time, he was lost for words.

Because Nesta Archeron could not possibly be offering him this big of a favor. Nesta, who burned a hole of fiery hatred through him with every glance of her icy blue eyes. Nesta, who made it her mission to ruin his life, and she didn’t even know just how much she was doing the opposite. Nesta, who somehow kept popping up, again and again, and it didn’t matter if she was helping him or maiming him between the legs, all he wanted was _more_. And she was giving it to him freely.

_Because of the dog_ , the voice in his head reminded him.

But as she absently bent down to pet Falcon and raised her eyes up to meet Cassian’s, when he saw a sincerity in them that he’d never seen her toss his way… Cassian couldn’t help but wonder if she was solely doing this for the dog, or also for him. The thought alone set his heart racing.

Cassian cleared his throat, watching Nesta and his pitbull with glazed eyes as the dog licked her enthusiastically. Nesta smiled in response, a breathless little laugh coming out of her as she pressed her nose to the dog's head, and Cassian realized right then that this was probably the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

His breath caught, and Nesta turned her head toward him so that her cheek was resting on Falcon’s ear. Her eyebrow raised in a silent question.

“He really likes you,” was all Cassian could answer.

Nesta lifted her head up, the smile falling from her face far sooner than Cassian would have liked. “Then let me help him,” she said quietly, patting Falcon on the back of the neck.

And seeing the way the dog brought Nesta instant joy, and the way that happiness was seemingly reciprocated by Falcon himself, Cassian realized that being with Nesta was Falcon’s best option. And Cassian was damned if he was going to let this dog wither away in a shelter when he was in perfectly capable hands.

He nodded, and Nesta didn’t hesitate before picking up the leash and gathering her things from where they lay forgotten on the floor. “Like I said, I have food and toys, so we’ll be okay for tonight,” she told him, dusting dog hair from her pants. “But you can bring Falcon’s things over tomorrow."

“Of course, I’ll bring it all here first thing in the morning,” Cassian replied, but Nesta shook her head.

“No, not here,” she waved him off, and the gestured to the front door. Cassian opened it and held it for her as she and Falcon exited the office. “I’m off tomorrow, you’ll have to drop it off at my house,” she added as Cassian clicked the door shut behind him. And halted in front of it.

It was like something snapped inside of him. One moment he was at a loss for words, a servant to her every whim in his lust-fogged gratitude, and the next his grin was growing and all of his sarcastic and teasing remarks came bubbling back to the surface.

She was fumbling in her purse for her keys, and when she finally looked up, she narrowed her eyes at his change in demeanor. “Move,” she commanded. “I need to lock the door."

“Nesta,” Cassian purred. “Are you using this as an excuse to invite me over? Because you could’ve just asked-"

“Move and shut up before I change my mind, you brute,” Nesta cut him off. “It’s more convenient to make you drive out of the city than to load my own car with all of Falcon’s things."

Cassian only laughed as he stepped aside. “Right. As you wish, Sweetheart."

After Nesta locked the door, Cassian insisted on driving her to her car. She mumbled her consent, using the dog’s joint condition as an excuse to forego the walk, causing Cassian to smirk to himself.

They rode in comfortable silence to the parking garage about two blocks from her office, Nesta adjusting her legs occasionally where Falcon sat on them. He was curled up and fast asleep, completely content to snuggle up to Nesta as if he had known her his whole life.

Cassian was surprised that he felt sad looking at the two of them so comfortable with each other. He wasn't jealous of their connection - far from it. In fact, he’d be more upset if Falcon didn’t get along with this woman that Cassian sensed (or at least hoped) was about to become a more consistent part of his life. He felt sad, rather, because he got the impression that Nesta needed that kind of comfort, and that she would only allow a dog past her walls to give her that comfort.

Pulling up to the garage, Cassian put the car in park and turned to face her. “Thanks for the ride,” she said, not looking at him, as she opened the car door and allowed Falcon to hop out before her. He looked back into the car and whined faintly at Cassian, confused that he was leaving with Nesta.

“It’s okay, Falcon, we’ll see him tomorrow,” Nesta scratched the dog behind his ear.

“I’m going to need your address in order for you to do that, Sweetheart,” Cassian drawled. “Or a phone number, at the very least.” He leaned back in his seat, reaching into his back pocket for his phone, and waited.

Nesta rolled her eyes, making Cassian grin wider. “Fine,” she huffed out with near frustration. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if thinking very hard about her options. When she opened them again, he noticed just how bright her eyes were, now that they were encased in the darkness outside. “Give me your phone."

He handed it to her with a chuckle, amused at how easily he got under her skin, and watched as her fingers tapped away at the screen. When she was done, she tossed it back at him with a bit more force than was necessary, and he caught it just in front of his face. He glanced at it, and noted with no small amount of satisfaction that she had put her number and address into his phone.

"Good luck," he said.

"We'll be fine-"

"-Falcon, she seems like a handful."

Nesta narrowed her eyes at him. "You have no idea," she said, slamming the door shut and turning on her heel to enter the garage.

Cassian chuckled to himself as he put the car into reverse. He only hoped he would soon find out.

\-------

Falcon perked up in the backseat of her car as Nesta pulled into her driveway. He had been fairly quiet on the twenty minute drive out of the city to her house, and she had nearly forgotten he was there until now.

“Welcome to my house, Falcon,” she said, putting her car in park and shutting it off. The pitbull began to wag his tail when she exited the car, and he nearly barreled into her when she opened the door to the backseat.

Nesta lived in a fairly large house for one person, especially one who was young, only a few years out of school, and single. But her family was fairly wealthy and had bought her and Feyre the house as a graduation gift. Feyre had lived there all of six months before moving in with Rhysand, however, so Nesta had it all to herself. She’d always had Ember though, and it had felt incredibly empty living alone in the four bedroom house ever since her dog had passed away.

So the sight of Falcon bounding up the steps to the front door was a welcome one, and Nesta couldn’t help but smile.

She opened the front door and immediately, the dog was sniffing everything in her house. Nesta allowed him to explore a bit while she poured herself a glass of wine, watching him. It took only a few minutes for him to find Ember’s old bed, which Nesta had not had the heart to pack away, and he settled himself on it with a panting smile on his face.

It hit Nesta suddenly how much she had missed this. Having a dog.

Ember had been older when Nesta rescued him during her first year of vet school, but he’d never acted like anything less than a puppy at heart. Nesta had spoiled him with all of the love she had in her heart. Ember had tons of toys and the fluffiest dog beds, even though he slept in her bed with her every night. Nesta had taken him on frequent long walks in the city’s parks and, later, on the hiking trail behind this house. Her dog had loved the outdoors, and loved Nesta even more, and she had been absolutely devastated when Ember had gotten cancer. It had been the hardest few months of Nesta’s life, watching his energy wane and his love for life fade to exhaustion and pain.

Nesta never let anyone see her cry, but the day Ember died, she’d been unable to sit in that large, empty house alone and had sacrificed her pride for the comfort of her sister’s arms and the guest room at Rhysand’s apartment. It had taken a whole week until she could go back home, and it still hadn’t felt right ever since.

And now, with Falcon on that dog bed beside the fireplace, Nesta began to feel whole again.

Maybe that was why she’d agreed so quickly to help Cassian. Maybe she subconsciously knew that having a dog in her house, even one that wasn’t hers, would fill the space in her home and hole in her heart.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and Nesta fished it out, placing her wine glass on the kitchen counter. She had a text from an unknown number, but she knew who it was almost immediately.

_Any particular reason you put your name in my phone as “Dr. Archeron”, Sweetheart?_

Nesta felt her lip twitch before scowling at her screen.

_Because I’m your vet, Cassian._

He responded immediately, _I’d say we can call each other friends now, can we not?_

She bit her lip and sighed, looking up from her phone to see that Falcon was fast asleep, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he snored softly. Nesta allowed herself to smile and walked her wine glass to the living room couch before responding to Cassian’s text.

_No._

_No? More than friends then? ;)_

Nesta scoffed, causing Falcon to wake up. When he saw her sitting near him, he got up and leapt onto the couch beside her.

She didn’t know when her heart had started beating so quickly, but she wrote it off to Falcon startling her with his sudden movement to the couch. Nesta had to wipe her sweaty palms on her pants before responding to the text.

_Bugger off, brute. I’m trying to have some quality bonding time with your dog._

Nesta sipped her wine as she pet the pitbull, whose head was resting comfortably in her lap. He licked her leg absently, his ear twitching when her phone once again vibrated.

_Speaking of Falcon, what time should I stop by tomorrow?_

As she contemplated how late she’d want to sleep in tomorrow, another text followed:

_Falcon rises with the sun. FYI._

Great.

_Morning it is, then. 9am?_

_See you then, Sweetheart._

_Don’t call me that._

_Tell Falcon I’ll see him then, too._

Nesta didn’t know why, but the last text pulled on something in her heart.

Falcon followed her upstairs a few minutes later, making himself at home on her bed as she changed. She crawled in beside the dog, and sighed contentedly at the warmth of his body against hers. Nesta scratched him behind the ears for a few minutes before turning off the light and settling in to sleep.

Almost immediately, however, Falcon rose from his spot against her legs and walked up to the vacant pillow beside her, curling himself up against her chest. Nesta chuckled, and found herself wondering if this is how the dog and Cassian slept as she buried her face into the dog’s soft coat and drifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter coming within the next couple of days :)


	6. Chapter 6

Early the next morning, Cassian loadied his truck with Falcon’s toys, food, and other belongings and set out for Nesta’s house. He had woken a little bit after dawn to go to the gym, texting Nesta on the way there to ask for her address. Cassian hadn’t expected a response right away, taking into consideration how early it was, but she’d texted him back immediately. The warning about Falcon’s sleep schedule had been half a joke, but it did make sense that it would be true when Cassian was used to waking the dog up at this time every morning for his breakfast.

He stopped along the way for coffee and decided he would bring some for Nesta as well. Not knowing how she might take it, he ordered it black and grabbed several creamers, sugar, and other kinds of sweetener, just in case.

Knowing Nesta, she would probably be mad that he even bothered.

When Cassian pulled up to the address, he gaped a bit at the size of the house that loomed before him. His eyes followed the length of the yard, the flat grass that expanded into a spattering of trees. There was no fence, but the trees served as a natural barrier to the yard next door. He spotted a dog toy laying in the front garden and he smiled to himself. Falcon must love it here already.

Suddenly, Cassian heard barking from within the house, and his heart began to beat rapidly. He was here, at _Nesta’s_ house, sitting like a fool in his still-running car. He quickly turned the engine off and grabbed both coffees, strolling up the driveway as Falcon’s head appeared in the front window. His barking intensified.

“Hey, buddy,” Cassian said as he passed the window and went to knock on the front door, but before he could, Nesta swung it open unceremoniously. She was dressed more casually than he had ever seen her - a cotton long-sleeved shirt that flowed long over a pair of leggings, her feet bare. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and Cassian thought that maybe if his hands weren’t full, he would not be able to resist tucking one of the loose strands falling into her face behind her ear. And just as Nesta put her hands on her hips and Cassian realized he was staring, Falcon bounded out of the front door and nearly knocked him over, forcing him to back up a few steps to avoid spilling the coffee.

“Get him, boy,” Nesta said. “You’ll wake him up better than than coffee will."

Cassian chuckled, shaking his head as he handed one of the cups and the bag full of sweetener to Nesta. She raised an eyebrow, looking from the outstretched offering back to him. “For you. I didn’t know how you take it, so I put creamer and sweetener in the bag."

Her face momentarily looked like she was battling something within, or like she might protest, but she eventually took the coffee and turned on her heel to walk back into her house. Cassian stood on the porch step watching as Falcon followed, unsure what to do with himself, before Nesta turned and cocked her head at him. “You coming?” she asked.

He shut the door behind him as he stepped into her house, and joined her where she had sat down at the kitchen table just beyond the doorway. Falcon was curled up at her feet, and Cassian’s heart felt a little warmer knowing that he was, indeed, happy here.

“Figured you’d want to see where your dog will be living,” Nesta said without pretense, gesturing lazily with a hand around the room. “This is it.” She dug into the paper bag and fished out a few artificial sweeteners and one creamer, and Cassian took note for next time as she poured the contents into her coffee.

“It’s beautiful,” he replied, taking a sip of his own coffee and looking around. The place was well decorated, but spacious - perfect for a big dog. He noticed an older looking dog bed in the corner of the living room and a few scattered toys around. “Where did you get all these dog toys?"

It was meant as an innocent question, small talk, but instantly Cassian knew it was the wrong thing to ask. Nesta’s face darkened, and she set down the coffee cup that had been halfway to her lips as she asked the question. “I’m sorry,” he sputtered, “I didn’t mean-"

“No,” she interrupted him gently, more gently than he was expecting. “It’s fine. They’re my - my old dog’s toys. He passed away recently."

Cassian internally kicked himself, but suddenly her eagerness to take Falcon made a lot of sense. “I’m sorry,” he said again. On some sort of deep instinct, he reached out the hand that was laying on the table toward Nesta’s, but stopped himself short when he realized what he was doing. He settled both hands firmly in his lap. “I didn’t know."

Nesta nodded, and took a sip of her coffee. “So,” she began, her mood shifting, her walls flying back into place. “Did you bring Falcon’s things?”

His heart sank. It had been three minutes and he’d already ruined - whatever this was. He sighed. “Of course. They’re in the car."

The two of them went out to Cassian’s truck and carried in all of Falcon’s things together. Nesta directed him where to put things, and he showed her the almost brand new bag of food he had purchased after the vet visit, proudly proclaiming that he had taken her advice and was no longer feeding the dog table scraps. That earned him an eye roll, but also a half-smile that did not go unnoticed.

After all of Falcon’s things were inside, Cassian bent down to pet his dog one last time. “So,” he said to Nesta, who had taken her place back at the kitchen table. "I’ll let you get on with your day-"

“Don’t be thick,” Nesta snapped. Cassian raised a brow at her and she rolled her eyes. “It’s the weekend, and you’re off today, right? Spend some time with your dog."

Cassian stood up and strolled back to the table, sitting back down and assessing her intentions. He narrowed his eyes and placed his elbows on the table, resting his chin on the backs of his hands. “Am I hallucinating,” he drawled, “or are you inviting me to stay?"

Rubbing her temples, Nesta groaned, and Cassian grinned in satisfaction at unnerving her. “I’m saying that he’s your dog, it’s a nice day, and there’s a hiking trail behind my house. Just because he’s living here doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get to spend time with him."

“So you’re inviting me to stay."

Nesta scowled. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Cassian."

“I could think of a few things-"

“Or you could leave, that’s fine too,” she glared at him as he laughed. Cassian winked as he stood up and grabbed Falcon’s leash from the mantle by the front door. The pit bull bounded up to him, already excited at the possibility of a walk, and Cassian hooked him onto the leash.

As he shrugged his jacket on, he spun to face Nesta, who was still sitting at the table. “Aren’t you going to join us?"

Nesta seemed taken aback by the question, as if she’d never even considered it. Falcon sat at Cassian’s feet and looked at her longingly, and whined.

She shook her head, standing up to throw her coffee cup away. “No, you two go. I have a lot of things to-"

“It’s the weekend,” Cassian said, mimicking her earlier words. “And you’re off today. Come on, sweetheart, we won’t bite. Unless you ask us to.” He smiled, showing his teeth, as she huffed in annoyance.

“I’d rather be bitten by the dog,” she grumbled, pushing one of those loose strands behind her ear. Cassian was reminded of how he’d wished it had been his hand to do that. “Fine, I’ll come, but only to show you where the path is."

Cassian’s grin widened and Falcon barked playfully as Nesta grabbed a coat out of the closet, as well as a pair of gloves. He almost wanted to say something about keeping her hands warm with his, but he didn’t want to push it. He was about to spend time with Nesta Archeron, and he wasn’t stupid enough to ruin it with his big mouth. Again.

\-----

She had to admit - it was a perfect day for a hike.

Nesta had woken far earlier than she intended for a day off, thanks to Falcon’s whining for breakfast. She hadn’t minded upon stepping outside to the unseasonably warm day to walk him, though. After letting him run around the yard for a bit under close watch, Nesta had determined that he was probably okay to stay off leash in the yard as long as she was outside too. So she had eaten breakfast out there, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the cool breeze that told her it was still winter, but wouldn’t be for much longer.

That had been why she was in such an… agreeable mood when Cassian arrived. The fact that he had brought her coffee maybe also helped, just a little bit.

Cassian held Falcon’s leash as they walked through Nesta’s neighborhood to where the hiking path began, and Nesta watched with a sort of reverence at the way he handled the dog. It was completely heartbreaking, she decided, that he had to give the dog up for a while, because it seemed that these two had bonded closely in the short time since Falcon’s adoption. The dog worshipped him, that much was clear, and Nesta found herself smiling as the dog stared up at his owner with adoration and devotion.

She missed having that. Sure, Falcon loved her company as well, but Nesta and Ember had been bonded in a way that no dog had ever affected her before. She missed having the one living thing she didn’t have to hike her walls up around, the comfort that had no strings attached and no advice, a pair of ears simply willing to listen, understand, and forgive. Ember had been all of that and more, and Falcon made her long for that again.

Of course, Nesta showed none of this in her face as they neared the entrance to the hiking trail, her face set in stone and her arms swinging loosely at her sides. She slowed to a stop as the clearing narrowed to a dirt path with trees on either side. “Here it is,” she said, and knelt down to pet Falcon. “Have fun, buddy."

“Not so fast,” Cassian knelt down to level their eyes as he smirked at her, scratching Falcon behind the ears. “You’re not getting off that easy. I might get lost out there."

Nesta rolled her eyes. “There’s signs, prick. You’ll be okay."

“Come on, Nesta.” His name in her mouth, her real name instead of that stupid, condescending nickname, stirred something inside of her. “Live a little."

The urge to fight him and the desire to prove him wrong, to prove that she _did_ know how to live a little, battled within her. Eventually, her pride won out, and she relented with a sigh. “Fine."

Without hesitation, Cassian stood and offered her his hand. She took it and he helped her up, only for her to realize that his hands were warm, so warm she could feel them through her gloves. Both stared at their joined hands a moment too long before Nesta pulled away, still tingling where he had touched her, and lead the way into the trees with Falcon hot on her heels.

The two of them hiked the trail easily, Falcon enjoying the flatness of the land. Cassian eventually let him off leash, despite Nesta’s protests, but he stuck by their sides. With as little as either of them knew about his past, he seemed to be unbothered by smaller animals that scurried by, and was slow enough that he couldn’t run off, probably due to his health condition.

Eventually, they sparked up a pleasant conversation. Cassian told Nesta the story of finding Falcon in the shelter, and in turn she told him her own story of finding Ember. It was easy to talk to him when he wasn’t being a prick, she realized, because it was the first time she had been able to talk about Ember this much since he died.

After a while, the trail became steeper and Nesta hooked Falcon back onto the leash, just in case they’d need to grab him. She took off her gloves and shoved them into a pocket, but the breeze still stung the rest of her body. Nesta shivered as they ascended to a rockier path, the air becoming colder as they rose.

“Here,” Cassian said as he stopped, shrugging his jacket off and placing it around Nesta’s shoulders. “I’m starting to sweat, anyway."

“Just what I need, your sweaty, smelly jacket,” she grumbled, but didn’t give it back. Nesta was instantly warmer with the body heat coming off of it, and wrapped it tightly around her.

Cassian smiled lightly before they came to a much steeper hill than any they had climbed before. Falcon stopped at a large boulder at the edge of the steeper trail, sniffing it, before hiking his way easily past them. As he bounded off, Cassian shot Nesta a wary look, but she wasn’t going to back down. She’d hiked this trail a hundred times, and she knew that the best view was just up this hill. She continued on, Cassian following tentatively, and kept her eyes on the ground around her to look for any jutting rocks. Nesta heard Cassian stumble behind her.

“Hike much?” she called over her shoulder. She began to laugh with mirth at the annoyance on his face, when suddenly she felt her feet fly out from under her.

And she realized - she’d forgotten her knee brace.

The pain in her knee distracted her from the pain of the fall, the rock she had tripped on digging into her thigh where she landed. Cassian was there in a moment, kneeling beside her as she winced. “Are you okay?"

“Fine,” she grunted, and made to stand up before another searing pain in her knee forced her down again. This time, she landed half on Cassian as he made to catch her.

“Must be those useless knees again,” he half-grinned as he sat her down on a flatter part of the ground to assess her injuries. He placed his hand above her knee and looked at her with questioning eyes. “May I?"

Nesta winced again as she nodded.

“I’m only certified in sports medicine,” Cassian began as he began to tenderly touch her knee, "but I think that might be more useful than veterinary medicine in this case."

Another shock of pain went through her knee and Cassian relented, moving his hands to her own. She started before she realized they were scraped up and bloody where she had attempted to break her fall. He reached into the pocket of his jacket, which was still on her, causing her to shiver again with something other than the chill of the wind as he pulled out a water bottle, which he used to clean the wounds.

“We should get you back. I think your knee might be sprained,” Cassian said as he offered the rest of the water for Nesta to drink. He called for Falcon as she sipped, but the dog was no where to be found.

“He’d probably right up that path, taking in the view,” Nesta said, suddenly feeling useless. All she wanted was to spend this nice day on a hike, something she hadn’t done in months. She was so stupid for forgetting her knee brace. Again. And now she was laying in a pile of dirt and this prick was being forced to nurse her back to health. Her pride flared as she tried to stand once again.

Cassian held her down, frowning at her. “No, I’ll get him. Stay here. You’re hurt, and it’s my fault for making you come out here in the first place. Just,” he shook his head as he stood up. “Stay here, please."

“It’s not your fault, idiot. I’m fine,” Nesta pushed herself off the ground again, gnashing her teeth together, only to suddenly find herself weightless and being hauled into Cassian’s arms.

He held her under her back and the back of her knees, gently but with all the strength of a army-hardened muscular man, and she slapped his incredibly hard forearm. “Put me down!"

“If you want to come, you’ll have to let me carry you,” Cassian replied matter-of-factly, his hazel eyes shining. His face was much closer to Nesta’s than she had realized, and she crossed her arms at her chest in defiance. “I mean, I think I’m plenty of a view, but if you want to see this other view you’ve mentioned-"

“ _Fine_ ,” she said through gritted teeth, nearly threatening to roll out of his grip when he winked at her. However, Cassian began his ascent, watching for rocks as she had been doing before she fell. “Don’t you dare drop me."

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he drawled, making his way around the natural obstacles with ease. Nesta began to wonder if his original stumble had been a trick to get her off her guard.

After a few minutes, they arrived at the clearing, and Nesta spotted Falcon laying down in a mess of grass at the top of the hill. His tongue lolled to one side as he turned to watch their arrival, but he didn’t move from his spot in the sun.

Cassian carried Nesta over to Falcon and set her down on a rock overlooking the top of the hill. She heard his breath catch when he took in the view - the trees that filled the valley below, the sun high in the sky as it beat down on them, and the remnants of the season’s leaves blowing in the breeze. It had always been her favorite view, especially the tiny bit of the city skyline that peaked out beyond the trees.

The wind blew at her hair as she turned to look at Cassian, and to her surprise, he wasn’t taking in the view as she had been. She met his eyes, and they were softer than before, without the twinkling mirth that she was so likely to see in them. He looked at her like he could see through her, and it made her feel both exposed and - and content. It was so unlike how so many others looked at her that she didn’t realize they’d been staring at each other until Falcon barked and broke the moment.

Had it been a moment? Nesta turned back to face the view, trying with all of her might not to let Cassian see the flush in her cheeks. “We should probably go,” she said.

Cassian ignored her. “You were right. This view is incredible."

Nesta nodded. “See why I’d rather look at this view than you?"

He tilted his head back and laughed, loudly and without restraint, so joyously that Nesta laughed a little bit too. After a few more moments of solitude, Cassian helped Nesta up, and when she still couldn’t walk, lifted her back into his arms and led Falcon back down the trail. Nesta grumbled and complained the entire way back to her house, but in reality, having him touch her like that lit something of a fire inside her. It was similar to how she’d felt at the shelter, when his nose and lips had grazed her neck oh so gently - but it was different too. She tried to shove away the fact that she felt safe in his arms, the fact that she was beginning to trust him more. It would only lead to disappointment, she thought.

But for now, she’d indulge in the freedom of breaking down a layer of her walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONGRATS ON GETTING INTO TUFTS VET MAGGIE <3 <3 <3 time to make this your real life


	7. Chapter 7

There were three reasons Nesta groaned and rolled over to shove her face back into her pillow the next morning.

The first reason was because, yet again, Falcon had woken her at the crack of dawn, whining at the bedroom door to go for a walk.

The second reason was that she realized she actually had to get up, and on a day off, for the sole purpose of spending the day with her sister’s bridal party. As maid of honor, she was unfortunately required to be there.

The last reason was because of the text message she had woken up to. Or, more specifically, who the text message was from.

_How’s the useless knee?_

That text had now been sitting unread on her phone for several hours, and Nesta wasn’t sure why she wasn’t opening it. Or answering it.

To be fair, her morning had been quite hectic. After finding the will to roll out of bed, she’d realized that the useless knee in question was still throbbing, and was not in any shape to be walking or standing or functioning like a normal human knee. Nesta had taken a good, long while to get up and take Falcon for a particularly painful walk.

It seemed that Falcon was at least on the same page as her - yesterday’s hike had taken a lot out of him, and his knee joints seemed to be bothering him this morning. He hardly walked the length of the yard to take care of his business before scrambling back inside and plopping himself down on the dog bed.

And then Nesta had busied herself with very important things - like breakfast, a few chapters of her book, and a nice, long bath - and before she knew it, Feyre and Mor were at her house to pick her up. Today would be the first time the entire bridal party would be together to discuss wedding details, and Nesta felt completely unprepared to start planning her youngest sister’s big day, especially with her mind currently… elsewhere. It had taken Feyre an extravagant amount of time to navigate them to a proper parking spot in the city, much to Nesta’s frustration, but at least she’d had an excuse for how hard she gripped the phone in her hand.

Eventually, Mor had taken over Feyre’s navigation duties, and naturally, Mor had found a spot in a matter of minutes. Nesta couldn’t help but think that Mor was much better equipped to handle planning a wedding than Nesta would ever be.

Nesta was thoroughly exhausted by the time they’d walked a freezing ten minutes to Feyre’s bridal party outing of choice - Painting with a Twist, to no one’s surprise - and she was now sitting on a bench in the corner of the studio, tapping one finger on her wine glass as she half-listened to Mor chattering on about some television show. The rest of the bridal party sat around the table, waiting for the class to fill up so the instructor could begin. They would be painting a mountain range and a night sky, and the girls already had an array of black, blue, and purple paint scattered on plates around them in preparation. It seemed like a lot of paint for the five of them, but maybe it was a full class and they would have to share the table with strangers. Nesta resisted the urge to groan.

And as intriguing as Mor’s conversation seemed to a smirking Amren and a wide-eyed Elain, all Nesta could think about was the damn unread message on her phone. She reached over and unlocked her screen, staring at the red notification with contempt.

Why was she thinking about the message?

After yesterday, she felt like there had been a…shift. Something. She didn’t know and didn’t particularly feel like caring, but it was there, fluttering uneasily in her chest. Suddenly, she went from thinking he was a massive pain in her ass to finding herself replaying his snarky remarks, remembering the feel of him carrying her down that hill and all the way home… and smiling to herself without realizing it. And she hated it. She didn’t need this kind of distraction in her life right now.

Nesta wasn’t stupid. She knew what Cassian wanted. And she was not interested. Not when the last time she had trusted a man, it had… not ended well. It wasn’t worth it.

Which, she supposed, was why she hadn’t answered him. Nesta was a lot of things, but she wasn’t one to lead a guy on if she wasn’t going to pursue anything with him. But… she had to communicate with Cassian. She was watching his dog for the foreseeable future, after all. She had to let him see Falcon, especially considering how attached the dog seemed to his owner.

She just had to be upfront, then. Next time she saw him, she would be honest. She just had to tell him she wasn’t looking for anything, that their relationship was purely professional. Hopefully he wouldn’t ask too many questions, or try to pressure her… but it was a risk she had to take to safeguard her own heart.

And yet a part of her knew he wasn’t the type of guy to make her feel guilty for making that decision. That her heart might be safe with that kind of person. That same part of her wanted to just answer the goddamn text. Maybe she was overthinking-

Why was she even considering this? She didn’t feel anything for him. Just because a guy cared if she had an injury didn’t mean she suddenly wanted him. Even if his love for dogs was somewhat endearing. Even if it was fun to bicker with him, to have someone equal her sense of humor. Even if he had looked at her yesterday like she was possibly more beautiful than the view from the top of the hill. Even if his eyes might have, in those brief seconds of eye contact, momentarily flicked to her lips-

“Nesta?"

Whipping her head up from where she had been staring at her glass, Nesta saw that all of her friends were watching her. “What?"

Elain giggled, and Amren smirked at her in that knowing way she always did. Mor and Feyre raised their brows at each other across the table in such a coordinated move that Nesta wondered again why Feyre would chose Nesta as her maid of honor, when she and Mor were clearly closer than they ever had been. Her heart stammered with bitterness.

“Are you okay?" Feyre said slowly, her singular, tattooed hand twirling a paintbrush mindlessly over the blank canvas before her. Nesta eyed the intricate designs that crawled their way up her arm in a trail of roses, thorns, and wisps of mist, still wondering how her sister had decided on that particular permanent addition to her body. She didn’t hate her sister’s tattoo - she just wondered where Feyre had found the nerve.

“You haven’t offered a single sarcastic comment since we arrived,” her sister continued, following Nesta’s line of sight to her arm just as she glanced away. "And there were plenty of opportunities during Mor’s last speech, trust me.” Mor reached over and poked her in the stomach and Feyre stuck her tongue out at her friend.

“Sorry,” Nesta said absently, locking her phone so her screen would stop taunting her with the unread message notification. “I hurt my knee hiking yesterday, and I’m just not feeling well."

Elain tilted her head. “Hiking?"

Nesta nodded, but offered no further explanation. The expression on her face must have been dismissive enough to dissuade the others from asking questions. But not enough to dissuade Amren, whose predatory gaze was now catlike. “Sure,” she offered casually. “This one will do anything with a dog."

Mor looked stricken as she harshly whispered, “Amren! Her dog just died!"

“Subtle.” Nesta sipped her wine dryly. Mor looked stricken that she had heard her, her face turning pink, but Nesta only rolled her eyes and turned her gaze instead to Amren. “Why do you think I was hiking with a dog?"

Amren smirked again. “Sweetheart, your sweater is covered in dog hair."

Nesta narrowed her eyes skeptically. At the mention of _that_ nickname, she could tell Amren knew something she shouldn’t. Feyre was already catching on, her eyebrow raised as she clasped her hands together in interest, the paintbrush resting between her fingers as if it belonged there.

“I’m a vet, Amren,” Nesta said tightly. "Aren’t I always covered in dog hair?"

At that, Amren hummed absently, sipping her Bloody Mary (how did she manage to get hard liquor in this place?), but said nothing else.

Nesta kept her face neutral, challenging anyone else to question her. A few moments passed before Elain turned politely to Mor to ask her how she planned to keep her wine and her paint water cup separate, and the two started a quiet conversation in a fit of giggles. Feyre, however, caught Nesta’s eye over her canvas and looked like she might open her mouth to press her further, when her eye caught something behind Nesta and her face lit up like the sun. Only one person made Feyre look like that.

“Rhys!” Feyre lept out of her seat and ran over to embrace her husband-to-be. “I thought you were running late from work. Where’s-"

Nesta had to fight the flush that rose high in her cheekbones as Cassian and Azriel strode into view behind Rhysand, Cassian smirking like the bastard he was. And looking right at Nesta.

Her heart pounded a traitorous rhythm inside her chest as she averted her gaze. _Why was he here?_ She turned urgently to talk to Amren, but the woman was shaking her head slowly, a low chuckle escaping from her mouth as Cassian pulled up a chair between them.

He sighed dramatically and rested a friendly hand on Amren’s shoulder. “Amren,” he nodded in greeting.

“Don’t touch me."

Cassian scoffed, removing his hand as if it burned. “Always a pleasure,” he said sardonically as he turned toward Nesta. “Hello, Sweetheart. Long time no see."

“Don’t call me that.” She prayed that no one picked up on that last bit as she avoided his gaze, picking up a paintbrush as if eager to start.

Cassian only chuckled, resting his hands in his lap. “I clearly picked the most welcoming seat in the house."

Nesta leaned in front of him and glared at her sister, who was certainly not paying attention now that Rhysand was here. “Feyre,” she snapped, earning a glare in response. “Don’t you know bridal party bonding is supposed to be… just the bridal party?”

Feyre waved her off dismissively. “I was never one for tradition, Nesta."

Nesta groaned and sat back hard before realizing she was sitting on a stool and nearly went flying backward. She would have fallen if it weren’t for the hand that caught her.

“Woah,” Cassian said, steadying her even as she jolted forward and away from the solid warmth pressing far too low on her back, where it had most recently been just a day ago... He smirked infuriatingly at her as she caught herself on the edge of the table. “First your knee… Let’s not add a broken neck to your list of injuries."

Mor’s ears perked from where she sat having a quiet conversation with Azriel, her brow raised in confusion. “How did Cass know about your knee, Nesta?"

At that moment, as if sent from the heavens, the instructor stood on a stool and clapped her hands to quiet everyone as she began the class.

“Welcome everyone!” she said in a chipper voice that Nesta wasn’t sure she could listen to for two hours. She rethought the heaven-sent comment. “You’ve also chosen a very special night to come here. You may have noticed that the canvases in front of you are pressed together… tonight, you’ll be working with the person beside you to create this masterpiece. Yes, everyone, welcome to our partner paint night!"

Nesta wasn’t sure who she wanted to kill most - this instructor for sounding so happy about what was likely to be the worst experience of Nesta’s weekend, Feyre for dragging her here, or herself - as she realized just whose canvas was directly beside hers.

\-------

“Guess we’re working together, sweetheart,” Cassian said as he scooted his chair closer to Nesta, knowing he was playing with fire but yet unafraid to get burned.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as if steeling herself for a particularly unpleasant event. When she opened her eyes she looked around the table at all of their friends paired off - Feyre with Rhysand, Mor with Azriel, and Elain with Amren - and seemed to resign herself to her fate. Her blue-grey eyes captured his, and with a raised eyebrow, she said, “Can you even paint?"

He chucked and took a long sip from his beer. “Isn’t that why we drink? To bring out our artistic sides?"

She kept eye contact with him as she lifted her wine glass and downed the contents in one swig, and then prompty turned her attention back to the instructor as she explained the first step of the painting.

Cassian wasn’t sure what to make of Nesta right now, if he was being honest with himself. Yesterday seemed to have changed something between them, broken a bit of the adamant Nesta had thrown up for him to chip away at. He hadn’t expected things to just change, especially not in front of their friends, but he wanted desperately to get back to where they’d been on the top of that hill. Where something had sparked in her eyes, something that made Cassian’s heart race with anticipation, something that gave him hope.

He was definitely going to get burned. And he didn’t care at all.

Nesta was brushing the first few strokes of black on her canvas, concentrating on getting the paint to look exactly like the instructor’s, when Cassian leaned over and whispered in her ear. “So should I be worried about Falcon?"

Knitting her eyebrows together, Nesta frowned, but didn’t look at him as she continued to paint. “No. Why?"

“Well,” Cassian mused, swiping a bit of paint onto his own canvas. It looked nothing like Nesta’s, or the instructor’s. “Something must have kept you busy enough not to respond when an attractive guy like me texts you."

Nesta snorted and finally turned to look at him, much to his delight. She painted a mask of anger on her face even though Cassian could see her face start to flush. “I wasn’t busy."

“But you didn’t deny I was attractive."

He noticed Elain glance their way but Nesta was too focused on her painting to see. “Don’t flatter yourself. And Falcon’s fine. His knees are a little sore today too, but like me, he’ll live."

Cassian nodded and the pair painted for a few minutes in silence, Nesta finishing off a glass of wine and getting halfway through another before the instructor paused and smiled mischievously. “Okay everyone, time to switch chairs with your parter and work on their painting for the next few steps!"

Nesta jerked her head up from where she as carefully filling in a bit of dark blue in the sky. “Seriously? Do we have to?” she asked incredulously, more to herself, but Mor piped up with a “Yes, Nesta!” from across the table. Nesta groaned, looking up to the ceiling and then to Cassian as she sighed deeply. “You better not mess up my painting."

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he purred, smirking at her and causing her to roll her eyes. They switched seats, and Cassian couldn’t help but notice Nesta pausing a bit as she stood up. At first he thought it might be her knee, but as she shook her head a bit, he realized she very well might just be on the verge of tipsy.

The instructor explained the technique for adding stars to the skies they’d finished painting. They were to place a small amount of white on the brush and flick the bristles with their fingers to create a splatter effect. Cassian watched across the table to see how much paint Feyre used (she was an artist, after all) and dipped his own brush accordingly. Nesta watched him warily as he picked up the brush and aimed to splatter the paint. “Eyes on your own work, sweetheart,” he mused.

“That _is_ my work, prick."

“It’s _our_ work,” he corrected her before he pulled back the bristles of the brush and let them go, resulting in a spray of white cascading over the canvas. In fact, he didn’t realize the force with which he had flicked the paint and it also splattered all over the table, his beer bottle, and the other canvas.

Nesta let out a yelp of surprise as the paint flew into her space and she flinched away. Cassian smirked, amused at her reaction, and flicked the brush again. The paint hit more of her canvas this time and a bit of her hand, aimed to splatter her own painting.

This time she stilled and turned her head slowly to face him, her eyes burning with rage. “Are you trying to die, today, Cassian?"

His only response was to flick more paint, which again hit her hand. She narrowed her eyes and pointed her brush that had been aimed at the canvas at him, sending a spray of white paint his way. He blocked it with his arm, which was promptly covered in paint.

Chuckling darkly, Cassian held eye contact with her as she stared him down, challenging him. Daring him. He lifted the brush and her eyes widened, a fire burning in them as she shook her head slowly.

He flicked the brush, the paint hitting the smock protecting her shirt, never once breaking eye contact. Accepting her challenge.

Enraged, Nesta raised her brush and flicked it wildly before he could dodge it, and the paint sprayed all over his face. A grin of achievement lit up her face at his look of surprise, but he was so relieved to see her smile that he forgot there was anyone else around, forgot about the painting, forgot they were supposed to be following the instructions of a class. He dipped his fingers into fresh purple paint and went to smear it across her cheek, but she whipped her head away quickly enough that it ended up in her hair instead. Nesta gasped, furious, fingers going to her hair to wipe out the mess. She glared at him and snarled, “It’s on."

Nesta’s hand went right for the plate of paint between them, but Cassian was faster. He snatched it, relishing in her scowl and smearing paint on her arm with his free hand. Left without a proper weapon, Nesta quickly glanced around as Cassian dipped his brush into blue paint and readied for another attack. However, Nesta’s eyes found their paintbrush cup at the same moment, and Cassian knew he made a mistake.

Before he could move, Nesta was dipping her fluffiest brush in the black water. “You’re playing with fire!” she hissed as she sprayed it on him, drenching the front of his smock. As the water soaked him, he flicked his brush recklessly at her, spraying blue paint on her hair and in her face.

_Don’t I know it,_ he thought, but he didn’t get a chance to say it.

A throat cleared behind them and Nesta and Cassian both looked up into the furious eyes of their instructor.


	8. Chapter 8

"I can't believe you got us kicked out of there. Feyre is going to be furious!" Nesta hissed over her shoulder as she walked several paces in front of Cassian, arms crossed and fuming and, if she was being honest, a little drunk. She stumbled slightly on the sidewalk but recovered before Cassian could use it against her.

"Me?" Cassian replied, much more calmly and in an almost amused tone, which set Nesta even more on edge. She shot a glare at him as he caught up to her at a crosswalk. "If I remember correctly, Sweetheart, you were the one who threw paint on me first. I was just innocently adding stars to our painting-"

"No, you brute, you were purposefully trying to piss me off.” She angled her body away from him. "And don't call me Sweetheart, I'm legitimately angry with you."

Cassian smirked at her. "I can tell."

The light at the crosswalk turned green and Nesta bolted, letting Cassian trail behind her. She had no idea just where she was heading, considering Feyre had driven her to the painting studio in the first place, but she felt better already in the fresh air, without the stifling pressure of Cassian in the seat beside her, sharing her space, teasing her and getting a rise out of her and challenging her. The whole damn room had narrowed to their paint battle and had caused her to lose her own sense of public dignity and let loose a competitive side to her that she rarely had the energy to use except against herself. Nesta wanted to scream as she realized with a jolt that she had actually been having _fun_. With _Cassian_. For the _second day in a row_. She groaned, stumbling a bit more noticeably this time.

"Nesta, if you keep running from me, you're going to hurt your knee again."

She hated him for being right. She hated him for a lot of things right now, but especially for the fact that he was right, and he was grinning because he knew it. Most of all, she hated that she didn't hate his grin, that stupid smile that seemed to be perpetually thrown in her direction just to mock her for how utterly deep in shit she was.

Nesta stopped walking, her brain spinning in a thousand directions, and let Cassian catch up. He came to a halt in front of her and crossed his arms, waiting for her to say something, and Nesta scowled at him. He had paint in his hair and Nesta wanted to laugh. She wanted to reach up and wipe it away. She wanted to burn her hand off for even twitching in his general direction.

Considering him for a moment, Nesta sighed. "I need a drink," she said. And maybe it was the alcohol she had already consumed, or maybe it was her frustration and desperation to relieve it, but she allowed her face to soften as she inclined her head down a side street. "You coming?"

Cassian looked a bit stunned, as if someone had just slapped him in the face, but he recovered quickly. “Sure,” he replied, but Nesta could tell he wouldn’t go down without some grand, egotistical statement. She waited as he smirked, and nodded to herself as he opened his mouth again.

“Just to be clear,” he added. "Are you asking me out, Nesta Archeron?"

There it was. Nesta rolled her eyes, almost painfully, and scoffed. “In your dreams. Let’s just go."

They walked in peaceful quiet for a few blocks until Cassian suggested a particularly cozy looking bar called the Sidra. Shivering from the cold, Nesta ducked into the bar without a second thought and Cassian followed, chuckling as he shut the door behind them. A pop rock song that Nesta recognized was playing over the speakers, and she hummed softly as she lead the way to two empty barstools. They got a few strange looks, and it was only then that Nesta realized they must both still be covered in paint. She found herself uncaring as she set her sights on the wide variety of craft beers on tap just behind the bar.

As Nesta sat down, Cassian leaned into her and she froze momentarily before realizing he was just trying to talk over the music. “What are you having?” he said into her ear, and Nesta shook her head both to suppress a chill that threatened to snake up her spine (not because she was cold) and to express her dissent for him buying her a drink.

“I invited you. I’ll buy the first round,” she found herself saying instead.

“So this is a date."

Nesta scowled as he winked at her. “If you want me to buy you a drink, you should probably stop being a prick."

Cassian chuckled. “Fine."

After ordering their drinks, Nesta drank half of hers in a matter of minutes, humming along to yet another song she recognized. The DJ in this bar was pretty good, and Nesta let her eyes wander to the small section of the bar where people were dancing. Couples swayed together to the music and she felt a little lurch in her chest, a desire to dance, but stuffed it deep down as she considered the sweaty bodies that would brush against her, the unwanted touch of people with no sense of personal space.

As Nesta was contemplating just how much she hated people, she finished her drink. She felt better already, though. Alcohol was an amazing thing, truly - she could use it as an excuse for all of the poor decisions she’d already made that night, for the conflicting feelings she struggled to force down as she felt Cassian’s warmth radiating beside her, and for the redness in her cheeks as she turned back to him and found him studying her, swirling his drink gently.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Nesta raised an eyebrow. “I guess."

He jerked his chin at her. “Why do you do that?"

“Do what?"

Cassian shrugged, taking a sip of his own drink. “Hold yourself back from doing things you clearly want to do."

Narrowing her eyes, Nesta crossed her arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Well,” Cassian set down his drink and leaned closer to her, and Nesta didn’t back off, held her ground and refused to show just how much his nearness affected her. “You clearly want to dance. Over there. And yet you’re still sitting here.” He looked at her pointedly. “Why?"

Nesta tipped her head back, exasperated. “You don’t know what it’s like in there for a woman. People just… touch you."

“So?” He was grinning again, that _damn_ grin.

“I don’t like strangers."

“I’m not a stranger."

Nesta paused, considering him. How was it that he knew how to get under her skin, to make her second guess her comfort zone so easily? It was infuriating. It was exhilarating, but Nesta didn’t think about that. Cassian picked up his drink again and finished it in a few easy swigs, setting it down hard on the bar before piercing her with that hazel gaze that she was just now realizing looked like embers burning in a fire. “So do you want to dance, or not?"

The room narrowed to that question, the wait for her answer. Nesta considered the hundreds of ways she could turn him down, bust his balls as she had back at the animal shelter, give herself the upper hand. She found, however, that she didn’t want to.

“You’re asking me to dance,” she deadpanned. “And I’m waiting for the flirty, arrogant comment that will inevitably follow so it’s easier to refuse you."

He shrugged again, but he looked more serious than arrogant. “It’s just a dance, Nesta.” This time when he smiled, it was less teasing and more encouraging. It melted something in her. "You coming?” he asked, throwing her earlier words back at him. A challenge.

She stood up and walked toward the dance floor, looking once over her shoulder as she went, raising her eyebrow. An answer to his challenge. A challenge in return.

Cassian was following after her a heartbeat later.

The DJ was playing an upbeat alternative pop song and Nesta, her confidence fueled by the alcohol, began singing the lyrics and swaying. Cassian came up in front of her and joined her, singing the lyrics along with her and Nesta couldn’t help the smile that emerged from somewhere deep, deep within her. This wasn’t a popular song, and yet he knew the lyrics as well as she did, and she found it… endearing.

Loosening up a bit, she broke away from his gaze to shake her hair out and spin. Someone behind her bumped into her as he passed and, a bit drunker than she’d been before she arrived, Nesta stumbled backward. Cassian caught her, hands on her waist and his front pressed into her back, and Nesta shot him a half-hearted glare over her shoulder. “I’m fine,” she said, and began to dance again, not moving from where she was pressed against him. She found she quite liked it there, using him as a shield from the rest of the people on the dance floor.

Cassian moved with her, his hands staying in place on her hips, and Nesta looked down at them. They were large and warm and flecked with paint, and Nesta chuckled to herself as she lifted up her own hands, also covered in paint. She found that she didn't know where to put them, but as they gravitated naturally to rest over where Cassian's were glued to her hips, she didn't fight them.

If Cassian noticed the crack in her wall that threatened to splinter her completely, he didn't show it. He simply continued to dance behind her, humming a bit in the back of his throat. Nesta pressed closer to him, her hips aligning flush with his, wanting to tease him, to get a reaction from him. When she heard his breathing hitch slightly, she smirked. It felt good, having him at her fingertips like this. Knowing he wanted her.

Nesta threaded her fingers with his as the song changed to something slower, more sultry. The alcohol rushed through her system, pulsing as it relaxed her, and she laid her head back gently against Cassian's shoulder. When his head moved toward hers, she smiled, but he paused just above her ear, breathing heavily. Frustrated with his hesitance, Nesta tilted her head, just a bit.

When he chuckled it was deep, laced with sin, and it lit something deep in the pit of her stomach. His mouth hovered close to her neck, brushing just below her ear, and she pressed herself closer. He clearly wanted her - why wouldn't he just try something?

"Nesta," he breathed, and she shivered. "Can I ask you another question?"

Nesta rolled her eyes but smiled. "If you must," she said breathlessly.

Cassian paused, lips so close to her ear that she could hear every uneven breath he took. "Are you going to run away again?” he asked.

The question wasn't accusatory. It was genuine, and concerned, and made Nesta's heart swell. He was hesitating because he didn't want to do anything she didn't want - didn't want to push her, after discovering what he had that day at the animal shelter. When he'd been so close, and she had freaked out. Pulled back, thrown the walls up, shut him down and left him hanging. And he respected that. He wanted to let her set the pace for this - whatever this was - and he could see right through her to know that was what she needed. Nesta was sure he could read her, better and faster than even she could read herself. Cassian knew that she would push herself to a precipice, to the edge, and just before she fell, she would lurch back - afraid of feeling, afraid of hurt, afraid of it all because of what she had been through with a man in the past. Nesta didn't know how he could see her so well, and with a start she found that it made her appreciate him more, trust him more, rather than leaving her feeling raw and exposed.

She took an uneven breath and closed her eyes. "I don't know," she answered truthfully. "But I hope I don't."

Nodding, Cassian’s lips brushed her neck and Nesta burned, wanted them to stay there even as they barely touched her. “I hope you don’t either.”

This time, when his lips touched her neck, it was a little firmer, for a little longer, and Nesta leaned closer to him. The air around them was hot, smothering, but Nesta stayed in tune where she was - a bar, with Cassian, covered in paint and allowing him to kiss her neck - so she wouldn’t jolt back once the reality set in. It was harder than she anticipated, with her eyes still closed and her attention narrowing to the feel of Cassian’s hands gripping her tighter, his lips moving to plant kisses in her hair.

“Your hair smells good,” he murmured.

“Thanks, I showered today."

Cassian laughed and the sound went straight to her spine, and she shivered again.

“Cold, Sweetheart?” he chided, voice dripping with amusement. His lips brushed against her ear, which didn’t help the shivering, and Nesta silently cursed her body for reacting so obviously to how he was making her feel.

So she moved one hand from his and reached up and back, threading it in his long, paint-filled hair. Cassian groaned almost inaudibly, but Nesta smiled with the satisfaction of doing to him exactly what he was doing to her. She pressed his head closer to her tilted neck. “Shut up,” she commanded, and he obliged, kissing her jaw as his hands snaked slowly around her middle, holding her closer to him.

The heat was stifling, and Nesta’s eyes fluttered open to more easily anchor her in reality. She felt a little hesitant, seeing all the couples on the dance floor, knowing that she and Cassian must look how they do, but his hands were comforting, soothing as they held her, and Nesta found herself more comfortable there than she imagined she would be. When Cassian’s tongue found her neck this time, she didn’t jolt, she didn’t run away, she only let out a breathless hum of satisfaction. Nesta felt Cassian’s grin against her neck and he did it again, and again, and Nesta felt like she might light on fire. She found she wanted his tongue other places - her mouth, her body, her -

Nesta was about three seconds away from turning around and letting herself indulge on the first of that list when her eyes caught another's across the bar. The gaze of someone she never wanted to see, ever again. When he grinned, she felt the opposite of what she felt when Cassian grinned - sick, anxious, and scared.

Tomas.

Breathing, Nesta let the hand fall from Cassian’s hair and drop down slowly to caress his arm. “Cassian,” she said, more seriously and less breathless, and he immediately stopped laving at her neck. She almost whined at the loss, but threaded her fingers through his to ease his worry. Her heart pounded as she lost Tomas in the crowd, and she began to panic. “As much as I want to stay here,” she said, "I need air for a minute."

Without hesitation, Cassian backed away from her, and she turned to look at him. Concern laced his hazel eyes and she grabbed his hand, assuring him that it wasn’t him - he had to understand it wasn’t him. Nesta lead them out of the bar without looking back, hoping Tomas wouldn’t follow, praying he’d just leave her alone -

When the cool night air hit her face, Nesta realized she was closer to a breakdown than she thought - tears were welling in her eyes, from fear or from frustration at the ruined moment, she didn’t know. All she knew was the street in front of her devouring her quickened paces and the hand anchoring her to her sanity just behind her. She breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the parking garage of the painting place, several blocks ahead, and she pulled Cassian inside without a word of explanation.

Heart racing, she slumped against the wall, face buried in her hands. Why did he have this effect on her? Why was she so afraid - she had gotten away, he’d tried to overtake her and she had _won_ , had run away and never looked back, hoping to leave all memory of him behind as well. But she hand’t. That sound of her tearing dress still haunted her, still kept her inside a cage that threatened to crush her from the inside, she still couldn’t face -

A hand gently caressed her shoulder and Nesta looked up, blinking away tears. Cassian looked like he might hit himself, looked - guilty. No. _No._

“I’m sorry,” Nesta choked out. “It was - I saw him."

Instantly, she knew Cassian understood. “The one who hurt you.” It wasn’t a question, but she nodded her confirmation anyway.

A fire lit behind his eyes and he glanced toward the door, his free hand balling into a fist. “I should go back there and give him a piece of my mind. Nesta-"

“It’s fine, Cassian.” She took a deep breath. “I’m fine. I - I should get home to Falcon, anyway."

His eyes darkened and his hand ran down her arm to grab hers. “Can I drive you home?"

Nesta nodded.

They found Cassian’s car and Nesta climbed into the passenger seat, feeling everything, her head pounding from the alcohol and seeing Tomas and - especially - from what had passed between her and Cassian that night. She didn’t regret anything that they had done, didn’t even feel embarrassed or silly or ashamed. And that terrified her - that she might actually be starting to feel something for this arrogant, brutish prick. This caring, kind person who saw her for more than a sarcastic asshole even though that’s all she’d ever cared to show him. And he - he deserved better.

At a stoplight, Cassian turned to look at her. “You don’t have to, now or ever, but if you ever need someone to talk to about it,” he bit his bottom lip, mulling over the words, looking conflicted and worried for her reaction. It made Nesta’s heart hurt. “I know I can be a prick, but I’m also a good listener. I’m here, if you want. If you need a friend."

A friend. Yes, for the first time in a while, Nesta felt like maybe that was exactly what she needed. Someone to trust. One person to share this burden with her, one person to understand why she did the things that she did. And for some reason… it felt right to allow Cassian to be that person.

She didn’t know if it was the alcohol talking, but Nesta took a deep breath and told him everything.

Nesta talked long after Cassian had parked in front of her house. Falcon made no noise from within, so neither were concerned, and she talked and talked and talked, and he listened.

And he _was_ a good listener - he didn’t interrupt, or exclaim at any of the particularly horrible parts, or ask questions. He just let her talk. It was the first time she had ever talked about it - the first time she’d let herself even think about it since it happened. But she didn’t cry, didn’t falter. With him, for some reason, it felt open, and honest. She didn’t feel judged. For the first time, she didn’t judge herself.

“I just - I have a really hard time trusting people, now,” she finished, taking a shaky breath. “That’s the answer to your question, from earlier. Why I don’t do the things I want to do. I put up a good front - almost _too_ good - and it makes it hard for me to open up to anyone."

Cassian nodded to himself, as if it all made sense, and he pinned her with a gaze that should have left her feeling vulnerable and exposed but instead had her feeling like an equal. Understood. She pressed her lips together and waited several moments for him to say something - anything.

Cassian sighed. “Have you ever told anyone that before?"

Nesta shook her head. “No. Just you."

He nodded. “I want to kill that bastard. With my bare hands."

And, to her surprise, Nesta couldn’t help but smile at that. “Me too. Let’s do it together?"

“Together,” Cassian echoed, reaching a tentative hand out to push a strand of hair behind her ear. They were close - closer than they had been while Nesta was talking, and the car was suddenly warmer.

From within the house, Falcon began to bark, finally noticing the arrival of his owners. Nesta shook herself out of her reverie and inclined her head toward the noise. “I'd better go."

“Can I come see him tomorrow?” Cassian asked. _And you _was implied in the way he smiled at her.__

__Nesta nodded and unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the door, and hopped out of the car. “Go wash the paint out of your hair. You look ridiculous."_ _

__“Will do,” he chuckled._ _

__She went to shut the door, but paused. Cassian raised a brow as she climbed back into the car and leaned forward, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Cassian,” she whispered, sliding back into the passenger seat and out of the car._ _

__“Any time, Sweetheart.” She scowled at him, at that nickname, and that grin, at the way her heart pounded in her chest thinking about seeing him again tomorrow, and she shut the door before she broke down any more walls for him that night._ _


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mild-ish ACOWAR spoilers but not really?

“If you and Cassian hooked up last night, I’ll forgive everything that happened."

Nesta groaned and leaned her head back against the wall. Immediately she regretted it - her head was still pounding with the hangover she’d woken up with.

Of course that would be how her youngest sister would answer the phone. Nesta didn’t know why she had thought Feyre would be angry when it was practically her life mission to get her and Cassian together. Her heart leapt at an unsteady rhythm as she steeled herself for a multitude of excuses and lies.

“Feyre-"

“I’m serious, Nes,” Feyre interrupted, causing Nesta to scowl. She hated that nickname. "I’ve never seen such hardcore flirting in my life. I mean - throwing paint at each other? It’s like foreplay. What’s going on between you two?"

Nesta ran a hand over her face. “Nothing,” she blurted, albeit a bit too quickly, and she could almost hear Feyre’s grin over the phone. Her mouth was ten steps ahead of her brain, however, and her defensive walls wavered. “Well, I mean, not _nothing_ -"

Feyre shrieked. “You two hooked up! I knew it! It’s about time-"

“ _No_.” Nesta sighed, running a hand through her hair as she sat down hard in one of the chairs in the back room of her vet clinic. Falcon looked up at her questioningly from where he sat on the floor beside her, and Nesta reached out a hand to pet him and steady herself. Her walls reformed, slowly but surely. “I’m not hooking up with Cassian. In his dreams."

“And yours-"

“But,” Nesta said over her sister’s smug statement, “I am watching his dog for an… indefinite amount of time."

Feyre paused. “What? Why?"

Nesta explained the situation with Falcon’s health, Cassian’s housing, and the arrangement they had made. Feyre, surprisingly, knew nothing about it - which meant Rhys didn’t know either - and Nesta was unsure how to feel about that. She figured Cassian would have told his best friend what was happening in his life, at the very least. She pushed aside the thought for the time being, not wanting to dwell on Cassian’s… _intentions_ for too long.

After Nesta finished, Feyre huffed. “So you two didn’t hook up?"

“That’s what you got from that?"

“You’re avoiding the question!"

Nesta contemplated being vague just to piss her sister off. It wasn’t as if she and Cassian hadn’t done _anything_ last night… in fact, in her opinion, they’d done plenty. More than Nesta ever thought she would let him do, more than she ever thought she would want.

And she had wanted it. Yes, she had been intoxicated… but how much of her desire had truly been fueled by the alcohol? She had been so close to letting go, to breaking down every wall between them… Was it considered hooking up to let someone pull her close and kiss her neck, to tilt her head and practically beg for more? To want to do it again?

But Nesta knew Feyre’s reaction to any hint of something going on between the two of them would just keep her on the phone longer, so she decided not to tell the whole truth. Instead, she grit out, “No, Feyre. Gods, we did not hook up."

Her sister blew out an agitated breath. “Fine. Then I’m waiting for an apology."

“Well, you’re going to be waiting for a long time,” Nesta deadpanned. “I didn’t call to apologize. I called to ask if you were doing anything and if you could bring me lunch. I forgot mine at home.” Her stomach rumbled in a taunt to emphasize her desperation.

She could practically hear Feyre smirk over the phone. “Distracted this morning, Nes?"

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me that, and forget I asked-"

“I know someone who would fall over himself to bring you lunch,” Feyre interjected. “If you don’t ask Cassian, I’m just going to text him and ask him to deliver it in my place."

“If you do that, just remember I know where you live,” Nesta hissed as Feyre laughed hysterically into the phone. “And I’m in charge of your beloved cat’s vet care."

“Worth it,” Feyre choked out.

“Feyre, don’t-"

“Okay, okay.” Nesta almost thought she was going to put the topic to rest when she released another snort of laughter. “But the paint though,” she said, likely through tears. “I’m gonna have to see if Rhysand would be into that…"

“Bye, Feyre!"

Nesta hung up the phone and threw in onto the desk, causing Falcon to startle. The dog looked into her eyes and Nesta instantly felt her agitation melting away, unable to resist the innocent look on his face. She scratched him behind the ears as her stomach rumbled with hunger once again. Well, she was just going to have to deal with it. It wouldn’t be the first time she skipped a meal while at work.

Just as Nesta had her heart set on a pack of crackers she’d haphazardly thrown into her purse a week ago, her phone buzzed.

_Walking past your clinic on the way to lunch. Is Falcon hungry? A certain nosy sister already told me you are._

Nesta was going to kill Feyre. Slowly, but surely, she was going to end her life.

But Cassian _had_ asked to see Falcon today. And she wanted to know where they stood after… everything she had told him last night. She still wasn’t sure what it was that made her open up so willingly, so comfortably… She should just ignore his text. Pretend none of it happened, continue to force her cold facade in his presence. It was her nature, after all, to shut people out when they began to crack the walls she made around herself. And yet, Nesta found herself with a free lunch hour, a restless dog at her feet, and an empty stomach.

Suddenly, getting lunch with Cassian didn’t seem like such a horrible idea.

\--------

As Cassian gathered his things to get ready to leave work, his phone buzzed about a hundred times. He looked at the screen to see Feyre sending him text after text after text with just emojis, clearly trying to get his attention.

_I feel bad for Rhys if this is what he has to deal with on a daily basis._

_Ha, very funny. Be nice to me, I have important information for you._

Cassian raised a brow as he typed back. _And that is…?_

_I’m going to tell you that Nesta is at work and hungry and has no food. Do with that what you will._

Cassian had no idea how he got so lucky to have a friend like Feyre Archeron.

He sent Nesta a quick text and was surprised when she not only texted back, but also didn’t flat out refuse him.

_I might have a free hour. Falcon will be happy to see you._

Cassian smiled as he typed back, _And you?_

He wondered if he was taking it a little too far, pushing a bit too much, but after last night…

Gods, he hadn’t even had that much alcohol, but Cassian had been completely and utterly drunk on the feel of Nesta pressed against him, on the way she had tilted her head, on the sensation of her reaching back to run her hands through his hair. She was intoxicating with her walls up, but with them crumbling down…

Cassian was good and fucked. And he didn’t care.

It seemed like Nesta was in the same boat… or would be, if it weren’t for _him_.

The interruption of their dancing was one thing, but what Nesta had told him about Tomas Mandray - the name was now marked with a target in his brain - was another entirely. Cassian wanted to kill the dude, thoroughly and painfully show him just how much of a prick he was. With every word that Nesta had confided to him, Cassian had grown angrier and angrier, suppressing it for her sake and because he was afraid that if he reacted too strongly, it would scare her off. But of all the horrible things he’d heard from Feyre and Mor about what prick men had done to them, this was by far the icing on the cake.

All he wanted was to show Nesta that she deserved so much more than that. More than him, if he was being honest with himself. Which was why he’d decided to earn her friendship, first and foremost - but he still couldn’t help the way she made him feel. He would chase her to the ends of the world, as long as she wanted him to.

Cassian’s phone buzzed again.

_Falcon is always happy to see me. I think he likes me better than he likes you._

Avoiding the question - but purposefully, to push his buttons. Cassian shot back a quick reply - _We’ll see about that. I’ll be there in ten minutes._ \- before he grabbed his coat and power-walked the few blocks between his work and hers.

As he neared the clinic, he saw Nesta standing outside with Falcon, who was sniffing every tree in sight, likely smelling all of the other dogs that had been in the small grassy area outside of the vet. When he saw Cassian approach, he pulled Nesta, hard, and made a beeline straight for him. Nesta stumbled slightly but regained composure to tug him back as she walked toward Cassian.

“ _Someone_ ,” Nesta said without ceremony, glancing pointedly at Falcon before meeting Cassian’s gaze, “needs to be trained not to pull."

The steel blue of her eyes still managed to take his breath away, even after looking into them so many times the night before. He was distracted momentarily before realizing he needed to pull himself together if he wanted to have the upper hand in their banter. “I expect him to be fully trained by the time I get him back."

Nesta scoffed as she fell into step with him and they began walking down the street, Falcon trotting ahead of them. “I’d make you pay through the teeth for my training services,” she replied.

“Well, considering you’re keeping him for me for free, I think I could win you over with something other than money,” Cassian purred, wiggling his brows suggestively. Testing the waters.

But Nesta only grunted and replied, "How’s the apartment search coming, anyway?” Walls up, shields locked into place. Cassian should have expected it, but he was disappointed nonetheless.

“I’m going to start looking this afternoon,” he said, watching Falcon sniff a mailbox on the sidewalk. “I’m considering looking in a neighborhood with more parks and a bigger apartment space, even if it might be a far commute to work. I want Falcon to be able to get his healthy exercise.” He paused to look at Nesta, who was watching Falcon also. “He seems to love how much open space he has at your house."

Nesta nodded but said no more, and they walked in silence for a few minutes, stopping occasionally to let Falcon explore.

For the first time, Cassian was lost for words. He wasn’t sure where they stood now, what might set her off. He began to worry that perhaps her curiosity about his apartment search was merely a sign that she wanted him to find a place as quickly as possible, take Falcon, and leave her be. But Nesta finally broke the silence when they stopped at a street crossing, turning to face him with a slight, slight twinkle of unease in her eyes.

"About last night Cass…” she began, and Cassian’s heart leapt at the casual nickname. "I'm sorry about being drunk and... about everything I told you."

"Don't be,” he replied quickly, not peeling his eyes from hers. "Don't ever feel sorry for that, Nesta. I'm here for you."

"Well, I'm still sorry about the other stuff.” The walk sign lit up and they crossed the street, Falcon pulling ever so slightly on his leash to get across. Nesta tugged him back. "That... that part of me doesn't come out a lot. As I'm sure you've noticed,” she snorted.

The honesty in her tone ebbed away Cassian’s anxieties and he fell back into his easygoing demeanor. "Which part?” he asked. "The drunk Nesta, the dancing Nesta, the Nesta that doesn't pull away when I-"

"Cassian, I'm serious,” she cut him off with a light shove on his shoulder. He laughed lightly and when she stopped walking, he did too. The way she bit her lip and looked up at him made him realize this wasn’t the time for banter, and he let his smirk fade from his face. "None of that freedom is easy for me,” she continued, searching his face for something he wasn’t sure of, and he kept it as steady as he possibly could while looking at her. "And it won't be, probably for a while. If ever. I just wanted to make sure you're okay with that."

And there it was. That tidbit of honestly that Nesta thought would send him running, would have him rejecting her. She wasn’t ready for… whatever they’d started last night. At least, not yet. And she was afraid he would react poorly to that, that he only wanted one thing from her, that he was just like every other guy that had screwed her over.

He wasn’t offended - he was aware that was all she knew, that was all she had ever experienced. And so Cassian kept his features strong and unwavering as he said without hesitation, "I am."

"You are?"

The utter surprise in her tone made Cassian smile. He reached up a tentative hand to place on her arm, almost on instinct, but she didn’t retreat from the touch. "Of course. I'm your friend, Nesta, as much as you fight me on it."

Nesta sighed and began walking again, Cassian falling into step beside her. "I think that not even I can avoid the inevitable of us being friends after everything I told you,” she admitted, absentmindedly rubbing her arm with her hand, exactly where Cassian’s own hand had just been. "And how you reacted. Which I'm grateful for, by the way. So yeah, I guess you're my friend."

"Well, I'm honored,” Cassian replied, a hand raising up to press against his chest in a mock salute. "I hear the title doesn't get bestowed upon many."

When Nesta laughed, Cassian knew that even if he hadn’t been willing to wait a hundred years for her, even if he hadn’t wanted whatever she was ready and willing to give him, he would never be able to stay away from her. That laugh did things to him that he didn’t care to admit.

"Shut up,” she quipped, elbowing him in the side, and not faltering at the muscle she likely found there. "Where are we going, anyway?"

Cassian shrugged. “There’s a pretty good sushi place by the animal shelter that I used to go to when I would visit Falcon,” he explained, gesturing at the aforementioned shelter coming into view ahead of them. “They give Falcon dog sushi. I figured we could all get something to eat there."

She frowned and raised a brow questioningly. “Dog sushi?"

“It’s not really sushi. It’s cooked salmon and-"

Nesta stopped dead in her tracks, cutting Cassian off as he nearly ran into her. Falcon began to bark insistently, a low and threatening thing that Cassian had never heard coming from him.

Cassian wasn’t sure why she had stopped, why she wasn’t telling Falcon to stop barking. “Nes, what-" he started, but then he saw it.

In front of the shelter, several large men were erecting a sign on the front lawn. Nuala was standing outside the front door, glaring them down with her arms crossed, but nonetheless allowing it, a cacophony of barks coming from within the shelter. In large, black letters, the sign said _For Rent_.

Nesta silently handed Cassian Falcon’s leash as she moved slowly forward, and then more quickly. Cassian followed at a walking pace, trying to hold Falcon back, as Nesta began to run at them. She breezed past the men and strode directly up to Nuala, whose eyes widened when she saw them both approaching.

“What’s going on?” she asked a bit too calmly as Cassian caught up with her. He’d never heard her so calm before - a deadly sort of calm, the kind that came before a storm.

Nuala shook her head. “Oh, it’s just awful. We got the call this morning. The state won’t fund us anymore,” she explained. "Something about a new initiative to promote safer pets. And we apparently have too many dangerous dogs here.” Her eyes lingered on Falcon, a shadow of sympathy and relief shining in them, likely at the fact that he was happily adopted before all of this happened. Angling her chin at the men who were finishing up with the sign, she went on. “We can’t afford to stay longer than a month without the money, so…"

“So you’re just closing,” Nesta snapped. “What about all of these animals?"

“We’ll try to adopt out as many as possible in the next few weeks but… as for the rest… We’re not sure. It’s likely they’ll be, um…"

“Euthanized.” Nesta’s voice was a whisper. Nuala only nodded, tears welling in her eyes.

 _Euthanized_. As in killed. As in, that could have been Falcon, if Cassian hadn’t adopted him, if Nesta hadn’t taken him in.

And all of those other dogs...

Cassian watched Nesta’s face turn from steely calm to fiery rage, and he reached out a hand to place on her arm. She shrugged it off, and before Cassian could stop her, she abruptly turned and stormed over to the men now preparing to leave.

“Hey!” she called out, her voice wavering with emotion, and the men looked up in alarm only to see a hurricane descending upon them. “What do you think you’re doing?"

The men looked at each other questioningly before one of them spoke. “Our jobs, ma’am. Is there a problem?"

“Yes, there is a fucking problem,” she hissed as she reached them, getting into the man who spoke’s face. She pointed a finger at him. “Take the sign back. This place isn’t going anywhere."

“Afraid we can’t do that,” another said, stepping forward in an arrogant stride that Cassian didn’t like, not one bit. He towered over Nesta and gave her a condescending smile, and his blood boiled.

Nesta didn’t waver, however, and she got in his face instead. “There are innocent dogs in there."

The first man rubbed his arm uneasily and looked between Nesta and the arrogant prick still looking at her as if she was bluffing with how terrifying she could be. “The dogs will be fine once they’re all adopted-"

“You would need hundreds of people to adopt,” Nesta said, still glaring at the second man. “You would need hundreds of homes. I have calculated the numbers. And if the state is starting this _safe dog_ initiative, which it total bullshit by the way, no one’s landlords will even let the pit bulls in there onto their property. They are stranded here."

Tears of anger were running down her face, her hands balled into fists at her sides, and Cassian found himself balling his fists as well. To see her so angry, so passionate about something - it made him want to do anything he could to stop it.

Then the prick had the nerve to laugh. “Then I suggest you ask your boyfriend over there,” he gestured to Cassian, “to take his dog far away from here."

Nesta stepped back, her throat bobbing. “Please - please don’t leave them to face this alone."

Hearing her so desperate, so honest, with these complete assholes who were definitely holding back their laughter - it broke the tether holding Cassian back.

He handed Falcon’s leash to Nuala and strode up to Nesta, the men before her noticing the approach of a significantly more physically threatening opponent, and backing off quickly.

As he came up beside her, Cassian studied her face intently. Nesta still had tears on anger welling in her eyes, and he ran through every possibility to make them go away. He knew that placating, empty promises weren’t what she wanted or needed. Nesta, he had discovered, was much more of a take-action person - actions were the way she expressed her own emotions, and likely meant more to her than anything else. And because Cassian was the same way, he understood that, and he settled on the only solution he could think of.

Nesta took a moment to notice he was standing beside her, but when she did, she looked up at him, the fire in her grey blue eyes crackling in blazing embers.

“I have volunteered at this shelter for a very long time,” he began, his voice rough. “And I plan to continue doing so for a long time. I will stand on that front doorstep, Nesta Archeron, to protect this shelter - these animals. And I won’t let them touch a single one of them. I’ll fund the place myself if I have to. Even if it costs me every penny I have."

“What about your apartment plans?” she managed to ask evenly.

“I’m sure I can sacrifice more time with Falcon. If you’re willing to have him for longer.” Nesta nodded, and he continued, “Then I can think of no better way to spend my existence than to defend those who need it most."

Nesta watched Cassian intently, smoke swirling in her gaze, and never broke eye contact as he spoke - and he meant every word. He would give up anything for these dogs - for the girl in front of him. As a tear spilled down her cheek, Cassian reached up a hand to wipe it away.

She did not flinch from his touch.

After a few moments, Nesta tore her gaze from his and gave the men a dismissive wave of her hand before storming back the way she came. A raging inferno blazing forth, she grabbed the _For Rent_ signed with both hands and tugged. When it wouldn’t come loose, she stared at it for a moment before kicking it, hard, leaving a noticeable dent right in the center.

“That’s state property-" one of the men yelled, but Nesta cut him off.

“Bite me,” she shouted back, and kicked it again. And again. And again until Cassian came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. She immediately stilled, and to his shock, melted beneath his touch.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to this place, Nesta,” he said quietly. “I promise."

Nesta only sighed before striding the rest of the way to the front door to retrieve Falcon.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter this time around (is 2k short? i guess for me it is *shrugs*) but the next one is gonna be... quite long. enjoy :)

Nesta hated people. Hated them so much, she wished that she had kicked some _one_ instead of some stupid _sign_. She had half a mind to turn around and slash those pricks’ tires.

“Nesta-"

She hated those mindless grunts who did whatever job they were told, regardless of how it affected others, and relished in the adverse affects. Hated the shelter staff who didn’t even try to stop them. Hated the selfish, uneducated state government -

“Nesta, wait-"

They were awful, good for nothing, brainless, spineless trash that had no business having any authority over innocent, unknowing animals. Did they even know how many dogs were going to die because of their actions? Did they even care?

She _hated_ them. Hated everyone. People were the worst.

“Talk to me, Nesta. Please."

Except… except he wasn’t the worst. And she didn’t hate him.

And that made her hate herself.

“We’ll make this right, Nes-"

“How?” Nesta whirled on Cassian, who was following her back up the street toward her vet clinic. There had been no food, no trading of banter over sushi, no pleasant moment for Nesta to enjoy the fact that someone cared enough to take her to lunch during her break. Instead, that sign was a blip in her brain, flashing in bright lights in front of her eyes, sending her into panic mode. She wrapped her arms around her waist, trying and failing to keep the blistering cold out despite the unseasonably warm day. “You’re not funding the shelter for the rest of your life, Cass."

He stopped in front of her and took Falcon’s leash from her hand gently, securing it in his own. “Not for the rest of my life, no,” he agreed, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. “But at least until we can come up with a solid plan."

Nesta huffed. “What kind of plan is that?"

“The kind that gives the shelter a long-term solution to a likely long-term problem,” he replied, gesturing for her to continue walking as he fell into step with her. “That means fundraising. Finding homes for these dogs. Fighting the state on this - _initiative_ ,” he spat the last word like it was sour in his mouth. Nesta didn’t blame him.

With all of the recent legislation around the country concerning “dangerous breeds”, Nesta wasn’t sure why she was surprised that her own state had followed suit. It was only a matter of time before they hopped on the myth-fueled anti-pit bull bandwagon, despite Nesta’s better efforts, but she was still angry as hell. But maybe… maybe Cassian’s tentative plan would make someone else realize what was happening, would make some sort of change, would cause a great enough uproar that the state would be forced to listen.

But for Cassian to go to those lengths… to all that trouble… It couldn’t just be for her. There must be another reason why he cared so much, why he had started coming to volunteer at the shelter in the first place. When they stopped at a crosswalk, she turned to him and asked, “Why?"

He didn’t balk at the question, or ask her what she was talking about. He regarded her carefully, his hazel eyes searching her, before nodding his head to the right. “Let’s take the long way back."

Nesta stared at him for a moment before walking in the direction he had indicated, Cassian and Falcon walking beside her. Cassian was quiet as they passed several storefronts, but Nesta didn’t dare break that silence - that trust they had tentatively built between them had had allowed her to feel so comfortable telling him about Tomas.

Cassian looked to Falcon, trotting along ahead of them, as he started to speak. “I know what it’s like,” he said, “for no one to care about you. For people to turn a blind eye to those who need it most, who can’t help themselves.” He paused for a moment to tie his long, black hair back haphazardly into a loose bun, and Nesta was briefly distracted with how much she enjoyed the look on him.

“I grew up in foster care. My mom died when I was little more than an infant, and my father... wasn’t around,” Cassian began, and Nesta peeled her eyes from the loose wave that had already slipped from the bun to study his face. He still wasn’t looking at her.

“For fifteen years of my life, I bounced from foster home to foster home, never finding a family that wanted me for longer than a few years. It wasn’t like I was a bad kid - I was just a little rebellious. Bigger than the other kids, and I liked to pick fights. I’d steal from the other kids because it was the only time I’d ever be able to have something that was purely my own.” Cassian finally glanced at Nesta, and she kept her face neutral and unflinching, despite the tug she felt on her heart.

"None of my foster families wanted to deal with the backlash of a kid like me. So I just… I never had a family. When I was fifteen and had just started high school, I got into a nasty fight with a rich boy at school. I stole his shoes right off his feet. The family that had been taking care of me for three years decided that this was the last straw - that they couldn’t take it anymore, and they threw me out of the house.” Nesta’s frown deepened as a haunted look crossed Cassian’s face. “That night, that same rich boy found me sleeping in an alley behind the school and dragged me home with him."

Nesta tilted her head as Cassian glanced at her again, the haunted look melting into the shadow of a grin. “Rhysand?” she guessed, her throat raw.

Cassian nodded. “His mother was appalled when he told her where he’d found me. Made me a cup of tea and had me tell her everything about my life.” He sighed, a sad smile forming on his lips. “She was the first person who ever cared about me. Her and Rhys. And while he and I hated each other for a while, once Azriel came into the picture, the three of us decided to band together. We all joined the army and went to college together, and I finally found a family for the first time in my life."

Suddenly, Cassian stopped and turned toward Nesta, his face back to the serious scowl he’d had when he started his story. “My point though,” he said, clenching one hand into a fist at his side as the other ran through the messy bun he’d now thoroughly ruined, “is that the foster system didn’t care about us. The problem kids. Even though most of us would have been fine, great even, if the system hadn’t screwed us over so badly. It’s the same for them,” he jerked his head toward Falcon, sitting patiently in the grass beside them. “I know they’re animals, but they need someone to care about them, too. Especially the pitbulls. The ones no one wants."

Nesta suddenly understood why Cassian had been so broken up when he had almost needed to return Falcon to the shelter - why he’d adopted the dog in the first place. He saw himself in the pitbull, wanted to give him a family even if it was later in the dog’s life, just as Cassian had found his family after an entire childhood without one.

And she realized how much it must mean to Cassian that she’d been willing to help, to care - enough to keep Falcon out of the shelter, enough to allow Cassian to see him and spend time with him every day. The weight of the gratitude in his eyes as he watched her, waiting for her reaction, crashed down on her like a crumbling building. She wasn’t sure what to do with the amount of emotion he radiated in that one gaze, wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, wasn’t sure if she should clasp them together or reach for him or keep them wrapped around her, a physical wall to reinforce her psychological one.

But Nesta found that it wasn’t so much her hands as her heart that she needed to keep in check. It was racing, throwing itself against her ribcage at a speed she thought might be dangerous, as if it was desperately trying to jump out of her chest and hand itself willingly to the man before her. What he’d gone through… and how far he’d come from that...

Nesta knew that all too well. Knew it from the stint of poverty her family had suffered through during her childhood, remembered the feeling of hunger and desperation during those years, felt it as keenly as the neglect her father had bestowed upon herself and her sisters following the death of her mother. It had been hard to come back from that, and even harder to fall from grace again because of Tomas and crawl her way back to the top a second time. And Cassian had done that, and was using all he had learned to help others. To help the innocent, the helpless.

Just like she was, she thought as she fingered the hem of her scrubs.

Nodding, Nesta stepped forward so that her gaze was level with his. His face was still too serious - not at all like the Cassian she had grown to know - but she found that she didn’t hate it, didn’t balk at it.

“They’re scared,” she breathed, and Cassian raised an eyebrow, as if that wasn’t what he had expected her to say. “They’re scared,” she clarified, “of children like you, or pitbulls, because you have the potential to overpower them.” Nesta kept her eyes locked on Cassian’s as she spoke. “They keep their fears and troubles locked away, hidden, because they know they’ll deserve it when they all come back to bite them."

Cassian huffed out a laugh, that easy smile returning blissfully to his face, if only for a moment. Nesta offered him a small, brief one of her own, and his immediately faltered, that look of pure intensity rushing back to the surface. It was too much this time, they were too close, so Nesta glanced over at Falcon, now laying in the grass at the crosswalk, his tongue lolled to the side.

“I can’t believe anyone could be so afraid of a face like that,” Cassian said, nodding toward the smiling animal.

The corners of Nesta’s mouth turned up again. “They should be afraid of me instead,” she stated, and Cassian returned his gaze to hers, the fire dimming to its normal burning flame. "I’m a hundred times more likely to rip their throats out than he is."

Cassian stared at her for a moment before he bursted into laughter. “That you are, sweetheart, that you are."

They were silent as they began to walk again, enjoying the mild weather on the longer walk back to Nesta’s clinic. When they arrived back on the doorstep, Nesta took Falcon’s leash and went to head back inside. But Cassian gripped her fingers lightly when she went to pull away, causing her to meet his eyes again. “I’m sorry we never got lunch,” he said.

“It’s okay. I think I lost my appetite anyway.”

Nodding, Cassian went to pull away, but this time, Nesta tightened her grip on his.

“You really think we can stop this?” she asked quietly.

Cassian shrugged. “We won’t know if we don’t try."


	11. Chapter 11

For the next few weeks, Nesta found herself spending a lot of time with the man she’d once loathed. It was a lot of work, she realized, spreading the word about the shelter and getting people to care enough to help. At first, Cassian tried calling local politicians to get them on board, but no one seemed to have the time. Nesta then suggested that they take matters into their own hands - and spread the news the old-fashioned way.

While Cassian funneled his own money directly to supplies and bills for the shelter, Nesta gave her own financial contribution in the form of spreading awareness. She took out newspaper ads and hired Feyre to design flyers asking for donations or for others to host fundraisers.

Nesta and Cassian even spent one infuriating afternoon designing a bulletin board to place in the lobby of her vet clinic. After a number of shrewd comments regarding paint designs and the last time they had tried to make anything artistic together, Nesta sent Cassian to her back office on flyer printing duty and finished the project on her own. Nonetheless, Nesta found herself smiling at his antics, no longer annoyed at them but rather enjoying the war of banter they continuously waged.

Cassian even brought in a donation jar to keep on the front desk, complete with pictures of some of the shelter’s dogs glued to the top of it. Nesta thought he might be going a bit overboard, accusing him of putting her patients under emotional duress, but he flicked her nose and told her that he was only being persuasive and, if she would fall for it, anyone would. She hit him in the arm hard enough for him to hiss after that particular encounter.

When Cassian wasn’t at work, he went around town hanging up flyers and asking local businesses to put out donation jars of their own. He even started a drive for pet supplies at the military academy he worked at. And when Nesta wasn’t at work, the two of them holed up at her house with Falcon plotting the best way to get the initiative repealed.

“Rhysand has connections in the state Senate,” Cassian said one cold afternoon a few hours after Nesta had gotten off of work. It was gently flurrying outside and, excited that this would be the first time Falcon would experience snow in a yard large enough for him to enjoy it, Nesta had invited Cassian over to visit him. They’d stayed outside for a bit, watching Falcon roll in the dusting that had settled around Nesta’s house, and now they were inside hard at work once again. Cassian was sitting on her living room floor working on another donation box, a plethora of crafting supplies fanned out around him, his brow creased in concentration.

Nesta looked up from the article she was reading on the myths of pit bull aggression and took in the ridiculous sight of this enormous, hulking man surrounded by glue and construction paper. She considered him for a minute from where she sat on the couch next to Falcon, swirling her wine in her glass and smiling softly as he went on. “I could probably get us in contact with someone who has sway over this, or at least someone who can point us in the right direction."

“Mmm,” Nesta hummed, closing her laptop with a click. “I think Feyre already asked him. He’s apparently working on it."

Cassian looked up then, his long black hair sliding into his eyes. “Why does Feyre beat me to everything?"

“Because she’s Feyre. She has to stick her nose everywhere,” Nesta snorted, reaching over to pet Falcon’s head. He nuzzled against her hand.

Laughing, Cassian returned his gaze to his project. “That she does,” he murmured, his eyebrows returning to their concentrated look. Nesta found herself staring for a moment, admiring the way he looked so serious about his handiwork. With his hair nearly falling into the glue like that, Nesta found herself wanting to reach over and gather it all into a bun like he'd sported the day they found the rent sign. She didn't know why but she found it... _really_ attractive. So much so that she didn't bother denying it anymore, at least not to herself.

Distracted, Nesta was momentarily startled when he said her name.

“Nesta, can you come hold this down while I glue it?"

She recovered quickly and frowned. “Seriously?"

Looking up, Cassian caught her gaze with a very serious one of his own, and Nesta stifled an eye-roll. “Yes. This is a very delicate process."

“Okay, don’t throw a tantrum, I’m coming,” she acquiesced as she slid off the couch and onto the floor beside him.

Cassian pointed to a piece of paper on the edge of the box. “Put your finger there."

Raising a brow, Nesta huffed at the commanding tone of his voice that she had noticed only came out when he was very much deep in concentration. “I don’t take orders from you, army man."

This time it was Cassian’s turn to raise a brow, but he grinned all the same. “Is that so?"

“Yes. Ask nicely.” She was reminded of another time she gave him a similar order, when he’d been locked out of the shelter, and couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto her face.

“We’re crafting. Do I really need to-“ Cassian cut himself off at the glare Nesta shot at him, and he chuckled. “I should expect no less from you, sweetheart. Can you _please_ put your finger there?"

Nesta waited a moment before did as she was asked, placing her finger on the paper and watching Cassian’s hands as he glued around the spot she held down.

His hands were delicate, careful as they pressed the glued bits of paper down to the box, and Nesta found herself thinking back to that night after Feyre’s painting party, they way his hands felt on her hips, in her own hands. She wondered how careful his hands would be wandering in other places.

“You’re staring, sweetheart."

Nesta started, a rush of burning embarrassment sweeping through her, but she didn’t let an ounce of it show as she looked up at Cassian’s stupid grin. She didn’t know what was wrong with her today - why she couldn’t keep her thoughts in check, why she found herself gravitating toward him, completely unbound from the tether she usually kept on herself, why she _wanted_ him so badly. The realization made her pull her gaze away, both intrigued and terrified of the implications of that want, and she scoffed. “You stare at me all the time,” she managed, distracting herself by reaching far away from him to grab one of Falcon’s toys from the floor. Falcon immediately perked up as Nesta placed the toy in front of him, and she patted his head as he began to chew on it.

Cassian chuckled as he absently smoothed the paper on the donation box, but offered no retort, no denial of her statement. Desperately trying to ignore what that meant, Nesta began to tease Falcon with the toy, waving it in front of his face and eventually tossing it behind her.

She swerved out of the way just in time for the dog to leap off the couch and barrel directly into Cassian, whose hands had caught the toy mid-air. However, he didn’t seem ready for Falcon’s energy as the dog raised himself up on his hind legs and pushed Cassian onto his back with his front legs, causing him to grunt and fall backward onto the carpet.

And Nesta couldn’t help herself - she burst into laughter.

She fell onto her back with her hands gripped tightly around her stomach, laughing and laughing at the absurdity of a dog knocking over an incredibly muscular, army-trained man. Falcon stood on Cassian’s chest with a pride unlike Nesta had ever seen in an animal and it only made her laugh harder, Cassian’s chuckling eventually joining her. Confused, the dog seemed to pause and look at them both as if they were insane, and after a moment, stepped gingerly off of Cassian and trotted from the room, his toy hanging from his mouth.

The pair lay beside each other on the floor, Nesta struggling to breathe as she huffed out a final few laughs. Cassian had gone silent and, worried Falcon may have hurt him, she turned onto her side, only to find him staring at her in that way of his, the way that stripped her bare and made her feel like all the air had vanished from the room. “See, you’re staring now,” she rasped, her throat raw from laughter. Her smile faltered even as his grew wider. “What?"

“I’ve decided I’m going to make you laugh like that more often,” he said quietly, shifting onto his side to face her and reaching out a hand to push a piece of hair behind her ear. She didn’t resist or push him away, only kept looking into those hazel eyes and tried to will her brain to catch up with her pounding heart. His fingers trailed lightly from the back of her ear to her neck, just as she had imagined a few minutes ago, and she suppressed a shiver. They lingered there at her fluttering, rapid pulse, giving her away, bearing all of her secrets to him in that moment. He trailed his hand lower still, to her shoulder and down her forearm, before laying it to rest on Nesta’s hand.

It was the same and different as the last few times this had happened - when she'd allowed him to get this close. The rush of panic at the realization that she wanted his hand there… well, that was the same, but the urge to pull away, to throw up all of those walls… that was gone. Completely. It was as if she didn’t have the energy to resist this anymore, as if the pull toward him consumed everything that she was and everything she would ever be. Nesta’s next breath was a shaky one as she tried to find it in her to shove it all down, these raging emotions, maybe respond to his comment with a sarcastic quip. But nothing would come to her in that moment.

Cassian pressed his lips together as his gaze flicked from her eyes to her lips, and Nesta felt it pierce her in a moment of pure chaos, a fire that burned and burned and burned deep in her core. And she indulged it, her cheeks flushing pink, as she tentatively wet her lips with her tongue.

That hazel gaze slowly returned to hers, the same fire reflected in them, and his body began to move toward hers when the jingling of dog tags broke the tense silence and Falcon came bounding back into the room, dropping his toy on Cassian before he began licking his face.

Grunting, Cassian held Falcon away from him at arm’s length as Nesta tried to figure out what had just happened between them, why she suddenly felt so cold when moments ago she’d be about to burst into flame. She laid back down on her back and tried to even her breathing as Cassian wrestled with the pitbull.

“Gods, Falcon,” Cassian said, his voice rougher than Nesta remembered it being earlier, so quiet it was as if he was speaking to himself. “You’re not who I want to be kissing right now."

Nesta froze as she took in those words, but Cassian either didn’t know he’d said them out loud or didn’t realize the implications of what he’d just admitted. He pushed himself off the floor and threw the toy Falcon had given him before laying back down with a heavy sigh. The moment felt broken and Nesta wanted to scream in frustration, both at her own traitorous feelings and at the uncertain nature of their friendship.

Clearing her throat, Nesta sat up and absently rubbed her arm. It felt like there might be goosebumps there, but she wasn’t sure. “It’s getting late,” she mumbled, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t want you to be driving home when the roads get icy."

Cassian sat up as well, running a hand through his hair as if to compose himself. “Worried about me, sweetheart?” he said as he turned to Nesta and grinned.

The shield of cocky bravado was thrown up almost as fast as Nesta had rebuilt her own walls. And this time… this time, she truly wished they’d kept them down.

“I’ve seen the way you drive,” was her only response, and she managed to give it a sardonic bite despite her heart not being completely in it.

They stood and Cassian said his goodbyes to Falcon, patting his head and letting him lick his hand, before they made their way to the door. As Cassian put his coat on, Nesta avoided his gaze and stared at where her hand rested on the doorknob. It was freezing to the touch, and her eyes instinctively peered through the window only to see… white.

Her eyebrows knitted together. “What in the…"

She swung the door open and Cassian and Nesta were met with raging, endless snowfall - much heavier than the flurries of a few hours ago. Nesta gaped at the wind that nearly blew her into Cassian, at the scattered pine needles littering the glittering, white sea that was her front yard. The visibility was so poor they couldn’t even see Cassian’s truck in the driveway, and at least a foot of snow was already on the ground.

Suddenly, Cassian laughed, and Nesta whipped her head toward him with an incredulous look. He only laughed harder as she scowled.

“How did we not know this was happening?” Nesta asked, shutting the door again to make sure the wind didn’t blow any snow into the house. “It’s like an actual blizzard out there."

“I was wondering when we’d see a proper winter this year,” he chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning against the closed door as he peered out the window. “This should be fun to get home in."

"You can’t drive out there!” Nesta shouted, waving her hands toward the pile-up of snow pressing against the windowsill. “The roads definitely aren’t plowed. Or even salted. They were predicting freezing rain, not this."

“Well, Nes, what do you suggest I do then?” His eyes twinkled but beneath them Nesta could sense his hesitancy.

She definitely wasn’t going to let him drive home in this weather, and she doubted any public transportation in the city was running if this had come on as suddenly as she expected it had. That only left one option - and while part of Nesta wanted to find any possible way to get him home so she could find a new method to rebuild her resistance to him… a bigger part wanted him to stay. Not only to keep him safe - though that was the main reason - but also to see how far he would go to get her walls to crumble permanently.

When she spoke, she kept her voice even, unwavering. “You should stay here,” she said quietly, glancing out the window again to try and cover up the fact that she couldn’t quite look him in the eye. “At least until the storm blows over. I have - I have a guest room."

When he didn’t respond, Nesta finally looked up at him. He looked surprised, as if that hadn’t been what he expected her to say. “Really?"

“Well, yeah,” she said, finally meeting his eyes. “I can’t let you risk it out there - if anything happened to you…” Nesta trailed off, waiting for something she wasn’t sure of, until she finally realized. “You haven’t made a lewd comment."

Cassian tilted his head. “What?"

“You just,” Nesta continued, rubbing her arm uneasily. “I would have expected you to make some sort of comment by now. About staying here. Overnight. Something to rile me up.” It was only then that Nesta realized she hadn’t just expected it, but had wanted it. Something to quip over, something to make this attraction she felt more physical and less… emotional. Real. Another excuse for her to deny what was certainly happening between them.

But as soon as she said it, it sounded stupid coming out of her mouth, and she shook her head as Cassian continued to stare at her. His gaze was calculating, searching, and Nesta waved a dismissive hand. “Forget it-"

“I’m not making a comment because it’s not a joke to me,” Cassian interjected softly, lifting himself off the door and taking a tentative step toward her. Nesta stilled, meeting his gaze again, as he stopped just in front of her, so close they were almost touching. “That you would be concerned enough about me to offer for me to stay. Being worried is one thing, but to offer your home… I’m not going to take that kindness lightly, Nesta."

And it came rushing back to her, in that moment, how everything he had gone through as a child must have made her offhanded kindness, something she offered rarely if at all, especially meaningful. His childhood in foster care, the way Rhys’s family had taken him in, the way their hospitality had saved his life… that wouldn’t be something he would joke about.

“Oh,” was all Nesta could say for a moment, the sound a whispered breath of air. After gaining her composure for a few seconds, she managed to speak again. “I-“ she started, her voice breaking. "It’s just what friends do."

“Friends,” he murmured, nodding as if trying to internally convince himself that this was the word to describe them. And Nesta found that she - she didn’t want him to do that. To convince himself that there was nothing between them. Because she couldn’t deny it anymore - it wasn’t nothing, and it probably never had been, and Nesta no longer had the energy to make up excuses for why she was avoiding the truth. The realization hit her like a blow to the stomach as Cassian stepped back a bit, looking out the window again.

Her mouth made the decision before her mind did. “Cassian,” she blurted, causing him to jerk his head to look at her again. Nesta felt her cheeks turning red as she took a tentative step forward to bring him as near as he had been a few moments ago. The gap of space between them felt like a mile, but he turned and allowed her to close most of it. She had to look up to meet his gaze.

“What you said earlier-“ Nesta said quietly, “about making me laugh, about…” Cassian tilted his head closer to hers. She could feel his breath in her hair. There was no turning back now. “About not wanting Falcon to be the one you were kissing-"

“Nesta-"

“Cassian,” she cut him off and placed a hand on his chest, over his heart, digging her fingers softly into his shirt. “Do you want to kiss me,” she breathed.

He didn’t break eye contact or say a word as he silently nodded, his hair tickling her cheek. He was so close she felt like she was suffocating. “Yes,” he whispered. Straight-forward, no games, no egotistical statements. He was giving her all he had to offer and she was left to pick up what she wanted.

She wanted everything.

“For how long?” Nesta asked, her hand sliding down from where it was placed on his chest to find his hand. She interlocked their fingers, and Cassian pressed his forehead against hers, his other hand finding its way to her waist. She allowed it, leaning into it as she closed her eyes, narrowing her world to his touch, his scent. He smelled so good - like burning woodsmoke and a faint hint of coffee. "How long have you wanted to?"

“Since I met you,” he responded, rubbing gentle circles into her hip bone with his thumb. “But since the day you kneed me in the balls, I realized I couldn’t fight it anymore."

Nesta laughed lightly, and she could feel his smile as prominently as she could feel her own. She naturally gravitated toward it, and an electric shock went through her as her lips just barely brushed against his. She brought up her other hand to his muscular shoulder to steady it from shaking.

“Just so you know,” she whispered just above his mouth, "I want to kiss you too.”

He smirked. “Then do it."

“You do it,” she responded indignantly.

“Are we really going to turn this into a competition to see who breaks first,” Cassian murmured as he tightened his arm around her waist, pressing their bodies flush together.

“Yes."

Cassian pulled his head back for a moment and Nesta opened her eyes to find that his had been overtaken by his pupils, the hunger in them barely contained beneath the surface. A chill went through her as the tension built and built and built -

“Fine,” he said finally, his voice rough. “Then I lose."

Before Nesta could form a coherent thought, Cassian closed the small gap between them and crashed his lips into hers.

Surely, this was what being lit on fire must feel like.

There was no other way to describe the insatiable heat that barreled through her as his mouth slowly caressed hers, reverent, taking his time exploring her, passion pouring into that simple touch. Nesta had never been kissed like that before - there was no rush, no desperation in the way his mouth moved with hers, only complete and utter adoration and burning, consuming heat. Nesta responded in turn, throwing everything she had into the kiss, her hands slipping into his hair to pull him closer, closer, _closer_. She needed more, the flames licking her insides demanding it, and she clenched her hands to tug gently on his hair, the only way she could think to tell him what she needed.

Cassian let a low groan slip from his throat as his tongue pressed against her lips and she opened her mouth immediately, her body starting to tremble at the anticipation. Any leash Cassian had on himself broke at her insistence, and his tongue surged against hers, and Nesta _whined_ at the intoxicating taste of him. It wrecked her, the way his desire for her came unhinged in that kiss - and the way hers did as well. There was only the feel of his mouth, his lips, his tongue, the gentle scratch of his scruff against her cheeks, the way one hand slipped up her back and the other moved down, down to grip her thigh.

Tightening her grip around his neck, Nesta lifted herself up and wrapped her legs around his waist, uncaring of anything but further closing any space between them. Both of his hands found her thighs now and held her up against him, pressed so close that Nesta could feel him hardening beneath her.

And instead of being frightened by that, by what she was doing to him… Nesta ground into him. Hard. Right as he broke away to kiss a line down her neck - his favorite place to worship her, it seemed.

He hissed even as she let out a breathless gasp at the feel of him, the heat that continued to rise even when it felt like it was impossible for her to feel any hotter than she already did. “Nesta,” he said so breathlessly against her, a prayer whispered onto the skin of her tilted neck, that it practically forced her hand, she just had to tug his mouth back to hers.

This time, she took the lead in the kiss - her tongue crashing into his mouth, teeth clacking against his. Even this was a competition in a way, both fighting for dominance in the kiss, a frantic twin to the previous one. It threatened to destroy her, that kiss. The tension built like a raging inferno around them, one of his hands moving up her back and the other dangerously close to the damning evidence of exactly how much she wanted him. And the feel of his hands so close to her, so close to where she needed them, was so suffocating that Nesta either needed to stop or to take this to the next level, farther, until she gave him everything.

She broke away and kissed his jaw in a line up to his ear. “Cass, what are we doing?” she breathed. "Are we…"

“Nes…"

“Because if we’re going to, we need to go upstairs. But if we’re not going to, we need to stop or I’m actually going to explode."

Cassian pulled back to look at her, his face just as flushed as she imagined hers must be. “This has never been just physical for me, Nesta,” he rasped, rubbing circles into her back. "And as much as I want to - and _Gods_ I want to,” he brushed his nose in a line up her neck, and she shivered. “I want to see you, touch you, worship you like you deserve,” he breathed into her ear. Her toes curled and she let out a gentle hum of approval when she found she couldn’t fully suppress her reactions to him anymore.

“But I also don’t have any intention of rushing this. And if I go up those stairs with you right now…” Cassian placed a gentle kiss behind her ear and sighed heavily. “Well, we’ll spoil all of our fun in one night, won’t we?"

Still trembling, Nesta clenched her thighs tighter around him. “You could still sleep upstairs with me…"

Cassian laughed darkly, kissing her hair. “I don’t trust myself enough to do that."

Nesta pulled back to study his face. “I trust you,” she murmured, carding her hands through his hair. He raised an eyebrow, causing her to laugh drily. “But I guess it’s a good thing the guest room is downstairs, then."

He nodded, leaning into her touch as his gaze pierced her. "This is real for me, Nesta. And if it is for you too…” he paused, unsure, trying desperately to read her facial expression. “I’d at least like to take you on a date first."

“Mmmm,” she mused, pretending to think about it, as she unwrapped her legs from around him and found the floor. Cassian's hands went to her hips as she leaned in close to his ear. “Better be a damn good date, _sweetheart_ , if you're making me wait to have what I want."

Cassian's answering smile was irresistible, and Nesta leaned in to kiss him again, lightly. “So, is that a yes?” he asked her against her lips when they broke apart.

Nesta smirked. “You know what it means."

He trailed his hand down her arm as if he knew what it did to her, knew that just that one touch was driving her completely insane. “Are you ever straight-forward with anything?”

“No, that would ruin _my_ fun,” she responded, pulling away reluctantly and backing up toward the stairs. “Guest room is down the hall on your left. Goodnight, Cass."

With a deep, steadying breath, she turned around and walked up a few steps, fully intending to give him a view to stare at that would leave him wanting more. But before she could even get halfway upstairs, she felt Cassian’s hands on her waist, spinning her and pressing her up against the wall as he claimed her mouth again. And that fire began to grow, faster this time, sparking and flickering and alive as she reached for the buttons on his shirt-

But Cassian pulled away and walked backward to the bottom of the steps, a dazed smile on his face. “Goodnight, sweetheart."

And then he was gone, disappeared down the hall, and Nesta was left panting and burning - and without the upper hand.

She was going to have to get him back for that one.

Biting her lip, she smiled at all of the new possibilities for doing just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya'll have no idea how long this chapter has been in my brain :) :) :) :) :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys get a couple happy chapters before... things happen. muahahahaha

Cassian was more than a little disgruntled when he woke to the sudden, heavy weight of a dog landing on his chest for the first time in several weeks. Groaning, he rolled over and opened his eyes, only to be greeted by a furiously wagging tail hitting him in the face.

"Falcon, get down," he mumbled, half-asleep, as the dog began licking his face. He waved his hands in front of him blindly until Falcon shook himself off and bounded off the bed, his nails clacking against the hardwood as he exited the guest room.

Nesta's guest room.

Cassian's eyes opened a little wider and his vision cleared as he remembered where he was, why he'd been woken up at the crack of dawn by his dog. His hand absent-mindedly drifted to touch his lips, no longer swollen from kissing her but still tingling slightly, still aching for more.

He'd kissed Nesta Archeron last night. 

He’d finally kissed her.

And she'd kissed him back. She’d _wanted_ to kiss _him_.

And while their relationship had certainly become blurry in the last few weeks, with many moments like the one they'd had on the floor of her living room, innocent laughter suddenly shifting to romantic tension... he'd never allowed himself to take that step. To hope that she felt what he did. He still wasn’t sure if her feelings were as strong as his were - and his were _strong_ , he’d never felt this way about anyone before - but now…

Now.

He was sure, now, that something was happening, sure in a way he hadn’t been just yesterday when he arrived at her house. Cassian thought about the way she’d gripped his hair, the way she pressed herself so close that he could feel her heartbeat, the way she’d ground down on him and been ready to go up those stairs and shed every layer of her walls and her clothing for _him_ -

Cassian rolled over and shoved his face into the pillow. Even though he was pretty sure Nesta had never slept here, the sheets still smelled like her, like whatever detergent she used to wash her clothing, with a faint lingering scent of dog fur. Cassian really, really liked that scent. Taking a deep breath, he groaned.

He was fucked. He had no idea how he’d been able to stop last night, when she was practically ready to jump him right against the front door. But he wanted to do this right - he wanted to earn her, to deserve her. And yet, every part of him ached to go upstairs and wake her up by wrapping her in his arms, to have her roll over into him and let out a little sleepy groan into his shoulder. He would run his hands through that perfect golden brown hair and kiss her forehead, her neck, her lips. He would continue on with kisses trailing down her body, lower and lower and lower until…

Sighing, Cassian rolled back over, ran a hand through his hair, and tried to think of anything else. But it was difficult, so difficult when he wanted her as much as he had genuine feelings for her, knew now that Nesta wanted him too. She’d initiated crossing that line - _Do you want to kiss me,_ she’d asked him, her breathlessness leaving him nearly speechless. Nesta had always been an actions-over-words type of person, that much he had gathered, so all of the confessions from last night meant even more, meant that maybe there was more than just physical attraction for her too -

_I want to kiss you too._

_I trust you._

_Better be a damn good date, sweetheart, if you’re making me wait to have what I want._

A date. He was going to take _Nesta Archeron_ on a date. For the first time in his entire life, he actually felt nervous about the idea of taking a girl out on a date. Because this wasn’t just a girl… it was Nesta. The date had to be perfect. It would be perfect.

That is, he thought as he glanced out the bedroom window, if the snow ever stopped falling.

Though he’d be stuck here with her if it kept snowing...

Cassian threw the covers off with a huff of frustration. Without bothering to put a shirt on, he padded quietly into the kitchen to find Falcon at the back door, waiting to be let outside. There was a good two feet of snow on the ground and it was still falling steadily, but it didn't stop the dog from bounding out into the wintery wonderland of a backyard. Falcon loved the snow - he immediately collapsed into a snowdrift on the side of the house and began rolling around in it.

Smiling softly, Cassian waited by the door and watched the dog to make sure he didn't get stuck or lost in the white abyss. Eventually, he scratched to be let in, and Cassian grabbed a hand towel from the sink to dry off the ice sticking to his fur. But Falcon avoided the towel and slipped under his legs, and before he could stop him, Falcon ran up the stairs.

He knew the dog would most likely go to Nesta's room to wake her, and chucked softly at the image of his cold, ice-covered dog waking her up the same way as he had woken him. Anticipating Nesta’s inevitable arrival in the kitchen, Cassian made his way to the fridge and got to work.

Humming to himself, he set out all the makings for breakfast on the countertop - the coffee was brewing, pancakes were cooking on the stove, and Cassian was chopping vegetables for omelets. It was something very few people knew about him, but Cassian was an excellent cook. He’d learned the basics from Rhysand’s mother, so Rhys was fully aware and frequently poked fun at him for it (that is - until he tasted Cassian’s pie), but for the most part, it was his own secret hobby. His humming turned to whistling as he beat the eggs together, adding a bit of salt and pepper to bring out the taste.

“All that’s missing from this scene is an apron.”

Cassian’s head shot up at the sound of her voice to find her standing against the entryway to the kitchen, leaning against the wall. The sight of her alone rendered him unable to respond.

Nesta was astounding, even in this vulnerable state - her hair mussed from sleep and her eyes unburdened by the fire that normally filled them. He noticed those eyes giving him an appreciative once-over as she grinned lightly. He returned the gesture without subtlety, his own eyes glancing over her slowly and deliberately. 

She was barefoot and clad only in a tank top and sleep shorts, posture almost commanding with her arms folded lazily in front of her, and Cassian’s heart skipped a beat. Eventually, his eyes met hers, and Nesta yawned lightly as she pushed away from the wall with all the grace of a queen. She strode purposefully for the coffee pot, still watching him. 

“If I had an apron on,” he finally replied as she walked across the kitchen, "you wouldn’t get to see me in all my shirtless glory.” 

Nesta rolled her eyes as she approached the counter and turned away from him, though he could have sworn that grin still remained. He kept watching as she poured herself a cup of coffee and began to add her cream and sweetener, blowing on the liquid in an attempt to cool it off. She used Truvia, not sugar - he'd have to remember that. 

That thought - hell, the entire moment - was so uncharacteristically domestic that it gave Cassian a strange feeling in his heart, in the pit of his stomach. Maybe it was because, he realized suddenly, he’d never been able to picture Nesta in this kind of environment. Never relaxed, or comfortable. Even with all the time they’d been spending together lately, they’d had goals to accomplish, self-made deadlines to meet. This lazy morning was different.

And it was… nice.

It was a dangerous thought, even after the events of the previous night, but Cassian couldn't help but hope that one day he might wake to this every morning. Might even wake to her in his arms, close enough to kiss her messy bed head, near enough to give her some of his warmth. Might even rise before her, early enough to bring her coffee in bed and make her smile that genuine smile for him, the one he'd only seen a handful of times but would gladly give his soul to see again. Might spend an entire lazy day in bed with her, no obligations, nothing at all existing in their world except the two of them.

With a jolt, Cassian realized this wasn't how a romance usually started for him… or even how it ended up. He’d never had such… domestic thoughts about a woman before. Had never considered a future with someone, especially not before the first date. 

But… cheesy as it sounded even to himself, Nesta was just _different_. Nesta wasn't just another girl to date until he got bored, and she never had been - none of this had never been a game to him. He'd surprised himself last night - when he'd been able to walk away from her in the heat of the moment, when he'd realized he didn't want to rush things - but now it was clear. He wanted a life with this woman. He would fight for that, do anything to have that.

He was truly and completely in love with Nesta Archeron.

The realization nearly made him stumble.

"Are you just going to stare at me all morning or are you going to keep cooking me breakfast?"

Her voice startled him out of his reverie, but she hadn't even turned around - Nesta was still staring at her coffee, stirring it idly, as she spoke. There was something about her sleepy voice that stirred something inside him, allowed him to step back from the precipice of confessing his love for her and into the easy, flirty banter that he did so well.

“I can do both," Cassian replied, cool defiance in his tone. “You’d be astounded how well I can multitask, sweetheart.” He crossed the kitchen swiftly, Nesta still not looking at him, and dared to come up behind her and wrap his arms around her waist. She leaned back slightly into him and Cassian knew she must feel how hard his heart was beating. Cassian considered kissing her then, just the top of her head or her neck, but a part of him was still wary that he would scare her off. Instead, he settled for leaning down and brushing his nose ever-so-lightly at the skin just below her ear, smiling as she shivered. “How did you sleep?” he murmured into her ear.

“Oh, fine,” she said a bit breathlessly, rolling smoothly from his grip with coffee in hand, and floating off to sit at the kitchen island. She perched there like the kitchen was her throne room and he her royal subject, sipping from the mug she held with both hands. “Falcon took up most of the bed, as usual."

Cassian grinned as he poured himself his own cup of coffee. “I think you would’ve slept better if I’d been the one taking up space in your bed,” he dared, turning to face her as he leaned against the counter casually. He smirked at the flush that crept its way up her neck.

“Hmmm, I don’t know. I like my space,” she teased, raising a brow. "Though I _did_ offer, if you recall. But I doubt we’d have slept very much at all if that had been the case.”

He’d thought it before, and he knew then that he’d never get the thought out of his head: this woman would be the death of him. 

Nesta chuckled lightly at what was likely a dumbfounded expression on his face and jerked her head at the stove. “I hate to pull you from what is likely a riveting fantasy, but that batch of pancakes is probably burning.”

He needed to pull himself together - he’d never lost his senses so easily in front of a woman. Cassian smirked in an attempt to recover some dignity. “C’mon, Nes. Have some faith," he said, feigning offense at her baseless accusation. “I told you, I _can_ multitask.” When he reached the stove directly across from her, Cassian grabbed the handle and, with no shame in his skill, jerked the pan upwards to flip the pancakes in the air, eyes still locked with hers. They landed precisely where they’d been before, sizzling at the impact with the pan. Cassian tipped it toward Nesta so she could see - they were a perfect golden brown.

“Show off,” Nesta scoffed. But she was still smiling.

They formed a comfortable silence as Cassian finished preparing breakfast, though he continued to show off his skills in the kitchen for her. Nesta watched with amusement as he flipped the omelets and somehow managed to cook bacon without burning his shirtless chest, but Cassian could see the appreciative glances she gave him over the rim of her coffee mug. She’d been fighting back that rare, all-consuming smile all morning, and Cassian was determined to get it out of her before breakfast was over.

“Mmmm,” Nesta moaned when she took the first bite of her omelet, and then again as she dug into a stack of pancakes. Cassian didn’t think she realized she’d made the sounds and naturally took the opportunity to point it out.

“Tell me more about my amazing cooking.”

Nesta reached over the counter and slapped his arm playfully. “Prick.”

“Sweetheart,” he cooed in response, and she rolled her eyes. “Seriously. Is it any good?"

“If this is how you make breakfast every morning, I hope you get snowed in here more often.”

Cassian smiled, appreciative of Nesta's rare but meaningful praise. “I’d love to. And speaking of snow,” he replied, glancing out the window as he swallowed a bite of his breakfast. “Looks like it’s not letting up any time soon.”

Nesta followed his gaze to the gentle but heavy snowfall outside, to the footprints Falcon had made that were already covered in a smooth, white coating. They both watched the snowfall as they finished eating, Cassian eventually getting up to take both of their plates to the sink. While he cleaned, Nesta moved over to sit on the couch with her legs folded under her, closer to the window where she could have a better view of the yard. She looked transfixed, not once tearing her gaze from the falling snow as Cassian kept his focus solely on her, absentmindedly washing the dishes.

When he finished, he moved to sit beside her on the couch. 

“Thank you for breakfast,” she said quietly, placing her mug on the coffee table and finally turning away from the window to look at him. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Rhys’s mom taught me,” he replied, smiling softly. “And it was the least I could do. With this weather, I doubt I’ll be able to take you on a date like I wanted to tonight.”

Nesta stilled at his acknowledgment of what had happened between them last night, at the step Cassian just took, coming closer to talking about what it might mean or where they might go from here. Cassian held his breath for whatever might come, hoping she wouldn’t run, praying that it had been real-

She angled her head. “You mean, that wasn’t our first date?”

Cassian narrowed his eyes in confusion before he realized she was joking. Teasing him. Not freaking out, not running away. And - and now, she was smiling that genuine smile, enjoying the hell out of how easily she could get a rise out of him. _Evil woman._ He thought his heart might fly out of his chest.

He dared to slide closer to her until he faced her, only about a foot of space separating them, and trailed his fingers across her thigh. “You said yourself it had to be a _damn good date_ ,” he mused, both of them watching the path of his hand up and down between her knee and the hem of her shorts. "Would it have met your expectations?”

“Hmm,” Nesta hummed, looking up at him. Their faces were close - entirely too close. Cassian couldn’t breathe with the effort of reigning himself in. And yet she slid closer, dragging a hand up his arm to his shoulder as her other rested just behind him on the couch cushion. “I guess that depends.”

“On what,” he said, his voice shifting to something deep and raw and breathless.

“Well, on a few things.” The hand on his shoulder threaded through his hair and the other began to trail up his arm. His own hands found her waist, gently, slowly pulling her closer to him. “It depends on what you have in mind for our actual date, of course,” she said. Her nose was an inch from his own now. “But it also depends on what we would be doing right now. You know, if it had been a date.” 

Nesta tilted her head, a golden brown curl falling into Cassian’s face, and he reached up to brush it back behind her ear. “And what would we be doing, Nes?"

She smiled deviously. “Something you wanted to wait to do… something that could occupy a _lot_ -“ she emphasized the word as she brought both hands flat to his chest and slid them down, down down, “-of the time we have, given that we’re stuck inside for the foreseeable future...”

Cassian’s mind was foggy, priorities forgotten. Wait? Why would he wait when Nesta was practically sitting in his lap, her lips inches from his, clearly wanting him as much as he wanted her? He pressed his forehead to hers, tightening his grip on her. “Nesta-“

“Maybe we’d be doing this.” She kissed him then, lightly, not nearly enough for how much his body needed to feel her against him. A hand found its way into his hair again and he brought his up her back, clutching her, deepening the kiss just slightly. They stayed pressed together for a moment, Cassian’s head spinning, and just before the leash he kept on himself snapped, Nesta pulled away. She smirked as she met his gaze and quipped, “But since it wasn’t our first date, I guess we’ll never know.”

Cassian cleared his throat. “And if I change my mind? If it was our first date?”

“Ah ah,” Nesta reprimanded, plastering a serious look on her face in place of the smirk. “Too late. You already said it wasn’t a date. Now my expectations are very, very high.”

She was torturing him. No question about it, with that evil gleam in her eye and one hand still threaded through his hair, tousling it teasingly. But if this was the game she wanted to play, then, oh, Cassian would play it. 

“And yet,” he purred, “even now, after our not-date, you can’t keep your hands off me.”

Nesta lifted her hands in defiance, but Cassian caught them with his own. "I can only imagine what you’ll be like after what I have planned.” Nesta’s eyes burned, locked with his, a silent dare to continue. He obliged. “I’ll have you right here in my lap, begging me, as soon as we get back to this house. Probably before that, if I take you dancing.”

She huffed. “Dancing? You know I hate dancing.” He placed their interlocked hands on his shoulders and Nesta broke away, resuming her idle caressing of his hair. 

“Not with me you don’t,” he retorted. “Unless you’re just using that as an excuse for me to give some attention to your neck. You know, after you tilt it in that way of yours." Cassian leaned in then, slowly enough that he noticed Nesta close her eyes, and sucked gently the spot where her collarbone met her neck. She kept herself steady, though, and didn’t tilt it - but she didn’t pull away either. He kissed a line up her neck to her earlobe and bit gently before pulling away.

Nesta was flushed, her face a deep crimson, and she let out a breath as she opened her eyes to witness the devilish grin Cassian now exhibited. “But, you know, since you apparently hate dancing, I guess we’ll never know."

Her feline smile could have severed his favorite part right from his body. "Don’t play these games with me, Cass. You will lose."

"We’ll see about that. I may have lost last night, but I’m not about to lose again.” He sat back, eying her expectantly.

Nesta watched him for a moment, and Cassian could see the plan formulating in her head, watched as her lip curled.

“I bet you don’t survive the day,” Nesta challenged, “without breaking.”

And as much as Cassian wanted to break… he also had his own ego to protect. And he knew that they were far enough over the precipice that the longer the teasing the went on, the greater the anticipation… the better the inevitable release would be.

It would be fun to spend the day making Nesta squirm.

“You’re on, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stay tuned ;)
> 
> also if you feel so inclined, follow my twitter @themockingjess for endless tweets about nesta archeron and writer's block <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been gone a while I AM SORRY!  
> but I have good news...
> 
> so you know that thing where one chapter is so long it becomes 3?  
> ...yeah.
> 
> so here's a chapter (technically 1/3 of a chapter) and I already have the others written so I'll just post them these next few days, but like, smut comes at the end I promise. YA'LL GETTIN 3 CHAPTERS THIS WEEK DON'T EVER SAY I DON'T LOVE U

The challenge proved… difficult, to say the least.

After an hour or so of unbearable sexual tension, the duration of which Cassian spent shirtless and Nesta felt like she was going to burn alive, Nesta needed the sweet release of the cold wind. And, she decided, the best way to get Cassian riled up was to get her face nice and rosy and to get him nice and frozen solid. She knew from experience that he was a baby about the cold, and that he probably hadn't brought anything warmer than his regular coat, and she definitely didn't have any big enough gloves to fit those large, calloused hands of his. Oh, yes, she'd have him begging her to warm him by the fire later. And she’d be all too happy to oblige... but he had to initiate it. Or she would lose. And that wasn’t an option.

So Nesta made up some excuse about needing to exercise Falcon in the snow, and after some grumbling and a few flippant comments (“we could always stay here on the warm, cozy couch”), she successfuly convinced Cassian to bundle up and take the dog for a walk. It was Falcon's first snow, Nesta realized, as he practically dragged her out into the fog of flurries still falling steadily, Cassian chuckling behind her.

She brushed his teasing off with a mild glare. She’d have the last laugh, after all.

Her front yard had nearly a foot and a half of snow piled in the deepest areas, judging by just how snowed in her garage was. Snowdrifts on the side of her house, likely made in the windy early morning, amounted to just over two feet. The roads on her street were pristine, a blanket of white sparkling in the light of the late morning. As the three of them treaded in the shallowest parts, their prints disrupting the pure perfection of it, Nesta kept her gaze ahead to take in the wintery peacefulness of it all.

She loved snow. More than any weather, it gave her a sense of relaxation, of comfort, that rain and sun and heat couldn’t. The cold was harsh, but so was she. It was one of many reasons she would never leave her home, would never go farther south - she didn’t think she could live without a winter season.

And so, as Nesta walked through that icy blanket, she was content. Happy.

Cassian walked silently beside her, studying her as she felt a slow smile settle on her face. He was close enough to share an inkling of body heat, but far enough away that Nesta found herself craving the gap to close between them. However, being her stubborn self, she stepped just out of reach of his hand, which had been brushing hers ever so lightly as they strayed from the street to the dustier snow beneath an outcropping of trees. Falcon plopped down unceremoniously under one of those trees, nose stuck in a pile of snow, and snorted loud enough to echo.

“Graceful,” Nesta remarked, dropping the leash and stopping to take in the sheer gravity of the snow on the branches above. Icicles dripped low from the branches, a result of the sun melting some of the night's snowfall before the second wave of precipitation began to freeze the world over once more. She reached out for one, but Cassian caught her hand mid-air.

She looked at him from under the thick cuff of her winter hat. His brows were raised at her actions. “Can I help you?”

“Those are sharp,” Cassian’s gaze flicked to the icicle just out of her grasp.

Nesta barked a laugh. “Like you think your wit is?” she quipped. She attempted to tickle his palm to get him to pull away, but he only shifted his grip to interlock their fingers. “Let go,” she demanded, though she made no move to assist him in doing so.

“Excuse me if a weapon like that in the hand of a woman like you scares me just a little bit.” He dropped her hand slowly, reluctantly.

Now it was her turn to raise a brow. “I scare you?”

“You terrify me.”

Cassian said this with such a straight face that Nesta burst out laughing. “Good,” she managed, reaching just a single finger out now to prick lightly against the edge of the icicle. Sharp indeed. She smirked as she lowered the hand and whirled around to stride in the opposite direction.

“Did you hear that, Falcon?” she cooed, squatting down next to the pit bull rubbing his entire head into the snow. She patted his cold, wet head. “Cass is afraid of a five-foot-five gir-“

Suddenly, Nesta was being lifted up, spinning. Cassian had one arm around her middle and the other fending off the overly-protective dog that had immediately shot to his feet in Nesta’s defense. She screamed, squirming in his grip as he moved that free hand up, up, up until he was brushing loose snow from the leaves above them and onto her unsuspecting head.

And while Nesta loved the cold, she didn’t like being cold and _damp_. 

“Stop! Cassian, you’re getting me wet!”

His laugh was booming. “I bet I am,” Cassian quipped, the insufferable bastard. So when he placed her on her feet, Nesta wasted no time bending down to grab two handfuls of snow and throwing them in his face. 

He saw her coming, though, and dodged the first throw. He wasn’t so lucky with the second - Nesta made a cheap fake-out shot with her knee into a place it was certainly familiar with. The next handful of snow landed directly on the top of his head. 

Cassian slowly lifted a hand to wipe where she’d met her target. Snowflakes dripped down his face, getting into his eyes, and Nesta tried holding back her laughter for as long as she possibly could. She lasted maybe ten seconds.

“You want to play that game, that’s fine,” Cassian mused as she cackled, his hard gaze assessing her. Nesta didn’t back down - competitive to her very core - and both of them moved at the same time. Nesta darted behind a nearby tree as Cassian formed the fastest snowball she’d ever witnessed in her life and aimed it right for her.

Falcon barked loudly as the snow hit the trunk of the tree and Nesta growled in indignation as she blindly aimed a fistful of snow for Cassian. She heard him chuckle as she missed, powder spraying across the clearing from her haphazard throw. Another perfectly formed snowball narrowly missed her chest and she leaned around the tree to grab some more compact snow. A snowball hit her square in the side, and she flipped Cassian off before darting back behind the tree, her back to the trunk.

“Didn’t realize you were one to hide from a challenge, Nes,” Cassian said casually as another snowball flew past her head. Nesta held in her scoff and urged herself to think. There was little to no snow under this tree and Cassian was gaining the upper hand. She needed a diversion.

Ripping her glove off, Nesta placed two fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly, causing Falcon to bolt from his spot behind Cassian. Not knowing exactly where the whistle had come from, he ran far to the right of Nesta’s hiding spot. And it did the trick - Cassian went to grab for the dog’s loose leash and left his side wide open for Nesta’s attack.

Quick and silent as a cat, Nesta lunged out from behind the tree and threw her leg out in front of Cassian’s. He clearly hadn’t been expecting the sudden attack in the form of physical assault - he’d had his arms braced in front of his face in anticipation for flying snowballs. Caught off guard, Cassian began to slip backward into the snow… but not without grabbing Nesta around the waist and bringing her down with him.

“Fuck,” Nesta cursed, landing hard on her front right on top of Cassian, her head hitting his muscular shoulder. Cassian groaned with the impact and winced as Falcon began to bark at them from nearby.

Cassian’s eyes, alight with surprise, met Nesta’s only briefly before she burst out laughing.

“You play dirty, Archeron,” he grunted, wiping the snow that had flown with the impact of their fall off of her coat. “Using Falcon, my own dog, as bait? That was cheating.”

This time, Nesta couldn’t resist scoffing. “Oh please, you know you wanted this to end with me on top of you.”

“That may be true,” he mused, smirking, tightening his arms around her waist. Nesta found she didn’t mind. “But we’re still in a competition, sweetheart. And this little spectacle is borderline forfeit.”

“You’re the one who pulled me down with you!” Nesta retorted in indignation, lifting her hands to his to push away his grip. She rolled off of him into the snow beside him and sat up, legs sprawled in front of her. “The way I see it, _you_ forfeited.”

Cassian sat up with her and pulled on one of the hanging tassels of her winter hat. She yanked it away with a jerk of her head and grabbed it herself, pulling it close to her face protectively. He raised a brow and stared at her for a moment, making Nesta shiver. 

She felt vulnerable whenever he looked at her like that - it made her wish she could somehow slip into his mind without him knowing and find out exactly what he was thinking about. Or, at the very least, tear all his clothes off and strip him as bare as she felt.

He grinned, as if he knew what _she_ was thinking, and it made her want to jump inside his thoughts even more. How did he read her so easily? She was pretty sure she wasn’t even smiling, the red on her face that was certainly a blush could be mistaken for the cold biting her cheeks, there was no way he could sense the now familiar ache beginning in her core -

“It seems we’ve met a stalemate,” Cassian tore Nesta away from those tedious, obsessive thoughts that she hated so much. "Good thing it’s stopped snowing.”

At that, Nesta looked around and saw that it had indeed stopped precipitating, the thin dusting that had coated their footprints to this spot freezing over into solid snow. The clouds were clearing and the sun began to peek out, sending the smallest bit of bright light into the clearing they were sitting in.

No more snow… that meant…

She met his gaze, which was… intense. It seemed he was as lost as she was in that moment. “I guess you can… I guess you could try to drive now, if the snow stopped,” Nesta whispered, not breaking eye contact.

“I could,” he nodded, narrowing his eyes. “I could drive home and get all nice and pretty tomorrow. Not that I’m not always looking my best but… tomorrow, I might have a date."

Her heart pounded in her chest. “Why wait until tomorrow?” Nesta asked casually, playing with the tassel of her hat. A nervous tick that she was praying Cassian didn’t pick up on. 

“Because, sweetheart,” he moved slightly closer to her, his hand brushing her arm. As cold as that hand must be without gloved, it felt like fire. "I’m not wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday on a date,” Cassian gestured to his snow-covered pants, which were soaked through. In fact, even his long hair was dripping with melted snow. "And I have nothing else to change into.”

Nesta playfully kicked his shin, but he didn’t even flinch. “Why do you care?”

“Well, for your information, I’m trying to get this girl to like me, and she just so happens to be really hard to impress.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that formed along with it. Her heart felt lighter - Cassian made everything that Nesta feared, every emotion swirling inside her, feel lighter and happier and easier to face. “I guess that’s true,” she said. "Maybe next time you’re trying to get this girl to like you, you shouldn’t throw snow at her.”

“Noted. But she started it.”

Nesta laughed, low and disbelieving. “You’re so arrogant. I’m not surprised you’re having a tough time getting this girl to like you.”

He winked, once, and Nesta couldn’t help but roll her eyes again. “Well,” Cassian replied, his hand moving from her arm back to the tassel on her hat. He watched it for a moment before meeting her gaze again. "I bet if I asked her on a date tonight, she’d say yes. Even with me being in soaking wet, day-old clothes.”

“You’re willing to put money on that?” Nesta challenged.

Cassian nodded. “Sure. If I lose, I’ll buy you dinner tonight.”

She swatted his hand away, but stayed in her spot, close to him, sharing breath. “You think you’re so smooth, don’t you?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” he said, mimicking a time long ago, another time they’d outside in the cold together, when he’d accused her of the same. "How about you answer one now? Will you go on a date with me tonight?”

Nesta tried to make her smile look more mischievous than anything. “We’ll see if it meets my standards for a date,” she said, and leaned in ghost her lips against the shell of his ear. She whispered, “after.” 

Cassian took the opportunity to graze his lips lightly over her neck, which was exposed to him entirely, and Nesta held back a faint whine. “Looking forward to it,” he replied.

Reluctantly, Nesta pulled away and stood, brushing the snow from her pants as Cassian joined her. He rubbed his hands together, and Nesta saw they were red and raw and stiff with the cold. It looked so unbearable that Nesta actually found herself reaching for his hands, and he took hers into his without fanfare or commentary. She appreciated that. After several moments of silence, Nesta dropped only one of his hands and the trio began the trek back.

And as she walked back to the house, hand in hand with Cassian with Falcon trotting just ahead, Nesta realized that those three sets of tracks in the snow didn’t disturb the beauty of it after all.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya, date time!!!!!
> 
> also, there are two times when nessian listens to music in this chapter... in my head, the first song is none other than 'dirty paws' by of monsters and men, and the second one is 'slow and steady' by the same band. but I left explicit mention of them out in case you want to imagine your own songs :)

“Where are you taking me?”

“Patience, Nes,” Cassian replied, one hand gripping the steering wheel of his truck, the other resting on the gear shift a few inches from her leg. His hands were still a little red from the cold, even though they’d managed to dig the car out of the snow fairly quickly… well, Cassian had. Nesta had watched, for moral support.

Now, they were driving down a dark, narrow road that had barely been plowed, drifts of snow still blowing off the leaves of the surrounding trees onto the windshield, and Cassian was refusing to tell her of his plans for the night. He was dressed, still, in the same jeans and the same soft, button-up shirt as yesterday - he’d thrown them in the washer and dryer as Nesta showered and got ready - but he had insisted that if she wanted to, she should dress up somewhat. Eventually, she decided on a long-sleeved green dress with tights, a chunky scarf, black boots, and her heavy winter coat. Casual, but… Nesta felt comfortable, in more than a few ways. Which was rare, to say the least. 

Except for the fact that she had no way to prepare herself for what was to come tonight because Cassian wouldn’t even give her a hint of _anything_. The prick’s lips were sealed, and it was driving her mad.

She looked out the window to the passing trees along the side of the road, watching as the snow swirled around them in the wind. “I think you know by now that I’m not a very patient person, _Cass_ ,” she retorted, huffing in frustration, but fighting back a smile. She maintained that impassive expression, however, as she faced forward again. “I just want to know if you’re going to be feeding me. I’m starving.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“You are the _worst_ ,” Nesta groaned, shifting away from him and crossing her legs tightly. "And don’t roll your eyes at me, that’s my job,” she added, turning her head to shoot him a glare, only to find him smirking at how much he was riling her up. She realized she was falling right into that trap all on her own.

Nesta shrugged off his smugness with a flip of her hair, which was braided loosely to the side of her head. “Some advice?” she offered. "It’s probably not a great move to make your date angry before the night even starts.”

Cassian laughed. “You’re not a typical date, sweetheart.” They stopped at a red light and Cassian turned to look at her. “You’re not even angry. You like my teasing.”

“We’ll see about that,” was all she said, but he was right. Nesta might have felt nervous about his plans, but there was a reason her smile was slowly but surely making its way to the surface. Cassian was annoying as all hell, but the anticipation he was kindling in her was exciting.

They drove in comfortable silence for a bit, Cassian driving slowly so as not to skid on the many ice patches along the road. Nesta watched him from the corner of her eye, taking in the way he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and hummed along with the radio. He seemed so at ease, so relaxed - but Nesta could read deeper into the stiffness in his hands, the way he sat so rigidly upright in his seat, how he had his hair tucked neatly behind his ears like he did when he really wanted to concentrate. He was nervous, too.

“Oh, I love this song,” Nesta broke the silence between them when the next song came on, reaching over his arm to turn the volume up. She started to hum quietly under her breath as she sat back into her seat, tapping the beat of the intro on her knee.

To her surprise, Cassian joined her humming, singing the full lyrics in perfect harmony with the female vocalist in the song. He was still singing when Nesta stopped, watching him subtly from beneath a stray piece of her hair. He knew every single word to this song, every note of the male voice, and _his_ voice… it was not bad. Not at all. Deep and sultry and… really hot.

He looked at her then, smirking as if he could read her mind, and Nesta frowned. “You know this song?”

“Yeah,” Cassian replied non-chalantly, tapping his fingers along with the guitar. "I really like this band, actually. I saw them at a music festival a couple of years ago with Rhys, Azriel, and Mor. They were pretty good live, so I bought their albums."

Nesta nodded, bobbing her head a bit to the music as the tempo picked up. “I’ve never gone to one of their concerts,” she replied. "But judging from the live performances I’ve watched online, I can understand why you’d like them just from hearing and seeing them up close.”

With a small, secretive smile, Cassian fixed his eyes on the road again, resuming his singing. Nesta dared to start humming again, quietly. She told herself it was because she wanted to listen to his voice, but really she didn’t want him to hear hers… it wasn’t nearly good enough for him to have to endure on their first date. Or… anytime soon. Ever. She didn’t care how comfortable she was with him - she had never even sang out loud in front of Feyre or Elain.

Cassian, of course, caught on to this, and nudged her arm during an instrumental break. “This is the most quiet I’ve ever heard you, Nes.”

She turned once more to look out the window so he couldn’t see the blush that was started to creep across her face. “I’m not the _best_ singer…”

“So?”

“…and you’re really good.”

She could feel his smirk even if she couldn’t see it. But instead of boasting, he was quiet. After a moment, Nesta felt a finger poking her arm and she turned back to see that hand travel to the volume knob. “Not that I care what you sound like, Nes,” he said, "but if you want to sing, we can just turn the radio up super loud?”

Her heart warmed at that. He somehow knew exactly how to coax her into enjoying herself without forcing her to do something she wasn’t comfortable with. She appreciated it more than she could put into words in that moment, so she just shrugged and allowed him to turn the radio up to an ear-splitting volume before she began to sing with him. Quietly still at first, but as the song built to its climax, she couldn’t help but let herself go. It was one of her favorite songs, after all, and she couldn’t even hear _herself_...

As they turned down a particularly narrow road, she lost track of just how loud she was singing. All she knew was that Cassian was singing just as loud, if not louder. And he wasn’t singing so much as yelling the lyrics now, seemingly not caring how he sounded as he hit high notes that his baritone wasn’t made for singing. Nesta thought, _fuck it_ , as they both sang the last lines at the top of their lungs.

Nesta was struggling to catch her breath as the song neared its end, her ears ringing, but she did hear the car make a horrible crunching sound that echoed over the radio and stopped them both short in their singing. Cassian turned down the music as he gently braked, skidding on a patch of snow and coming to an abrupt stop at the side of the road. The truck’s engine sputtered, revved, and died.

“Shit-“

Cassian gave her an apologetic look before climbing from the truck to inspect the situation. She saw him frown as he took in the sheer depth of snow around them - somehow they’d driven onto an unplowed road, and the snow was still around a foot deep under the cover of the trees lining the street. Cassian cursed again and shut his door, moving around to the front to look under the hood.

Biting her lip, Nesta hesitated before climbing out of the truck herself, wrapping her scarf tightly around her face and crossing her arms as she came up beside him. She fully expected him to tell her to get back into the truck to stay warm and let him deal with it, but when he saw her, he held out his arm and tucked her into his side instead.

“The cold is fucking with my old truck,” he explained, rubbing her arm with his bare hand - warming them both. “I’m sorry, Nes. This should only take a minute.”

“Can I help?” Nesta asked.

Again, he surprised her by nodding. “Would you mind trying to start it again while I mess with it?”

For several minutes, Nesta tried everything she could - and so did Cassian - but the truck wouldn’t start again.

“Do you have your phone on you?” Cassian asked as they climbed back into the car once they realized the effort was futile.

Nesta thought for a moment and grimaced. “I may or may not have left it home…” Cassian raised a brow. “What? I didn’t need it. I only talk to like, three people. And one of them is with me. Where’s yours?”

“May or may not be dead,” he said slowly. “I didn’t have my charger with me when the snow-pocalypse happened.”

Sighing, Nesta turned and narrowed her eyes at the stretch of road behind them. “I think we passed a diner about a half mile back… we could walk and use their phone.”

Cassian nodded, but looked troubled… and disappointed. “Hey,” Nesta said, putting her hand on his arm. “It’s fine. You know I can handle the cold. I really don’t mind.”

“This is not how I wanted tonight to go, Nes.” He looked down at the steering wheel for a moment and Nesta wanted to tell him it really didn’t matter. He’d already done so many things during the car ride alone that made her feel like she’d made the right decision in opening up to him - a feeling she didn’t take lightly. So now, she supposed, it was her turn to do the same for him.

A slow grin spread across her face, her hand running down his arm slowly, and he looked back up to her. “Are you telling me,” she mused, “that you’re not up for the challenge of spontaneous plans?”

He watched her for a moment, both of them highly aware of how close they were sitting, how little space separated their arms, their shoulders, their faces. His stare turned hungry then, and Nesta removed her hand from his arm. A tease, she knew, but… it was working. 

“I’m always up for a challenge,” he managed, his voice coming out in a low growl. “You know that.”

“Then prove it.”

He gestured to the car door. “After you, then. Let’s take a walk.”

—————

Twenty minutes later, Nesta and Cassian came upon the diner she had seen, gratefully lit up and open. As they stepped from the snow into the mostly-plowed parking lot, Cassian tightened his hand around hers to make sure she didn’t slip on the thin layer of ice coating the pavement. They’d been holding hands since about five minutes into the walk, when Cassian not-so-subtly had complained about how cold his bare hands had been. Nesta had accused him of purposely not wearing gloves in order to use that excuse on her, but had allowed the touch all the same.

The diner was a bit run down from the outside but cozy enough inside, if not a bit too pastel for Nesta’s taste. It was empty, save for a few employees, so the hostess told them to sit wherever they liked. Nesta selected a cozy corner booth near the back of the restaurant while Cassian got up to call AAA with their out-dated payphone. Miraculously, he also discovered the hostess had a charger that paired with his phone, and disappeared to plug it in behind the bar. As Nesta ordered them both water and two coffees to warm up their hands, she saw Cassian pull aside the hostess and whisper something to her before sauntering over to their booth, smiling casually. 

“AAA is backed up,” he told her. "They should be here in a couple of hours. Is that okay?"

Nesta nodded, but assessed him with narrowed eyes. “What did you just say to her?”

“To who, the hostess? That’d ruin the surprise, Miss I-Want-Something-Spontaneous,” he mocked, grinning from ear-to-ear like he had the best plan in the world. “All I can tell you is they don’t have wine here.”

“Were you planning on getting me drunk tonight?” she shoved his arm playfully.

“I was planning on treating you. But don’t worry,” he smirked. “I still will.”

And even though Nesta hated surprises, she refrained from saying so and instead flicked her straw wrapper at him.

After the waitress brought them their coffee, Cassian leaned back and crossed his arms, the muscles well-defined by the shirt he was wearing. In fact, he looked _really_ good, despite their walk in the wind and cold. Nesta was sure her braid was frizzy and her face was redder than an apple, but Cassian’s hair was disheveled in a very, _very_ attractive way, his eyes bright. The top button of his shirt was undone now that his jacket had come off, showing off just a sliver of those tattoos she’d gotten to see in their full glory this morning. She wondered what it would feel like to reach out and trail a finger along the curved lines and swirls adorning him, traveling lower until-

“Nesta.”

She bristled, heart heaving into her throat. “What?"

He smirked, damn him. He knew what he did to her, and she was reveling in it, just like last night. Bastard. “I said,” he repeated, "tell me something about yourself."

“No,” Nesta shook her head. “We’re not doing this. You know about me-“

“Surely not everything,” he pressed.

She snorted. “No, but I mean… this is dumb. What do you even want to know?”

He thought for a moment, making a show of leaning forward and placing a hand on his upper lip, right over his scruff. His hazel eyes pierced hers in a way that, if she were standing, would make her knees feel like jelly. Finally, he nodded, satisfied with his thought process, and asked, “What’s your favorite book?”

And despite her aforementioned position sitting in a booth, Nesta thought she’d melt into the floor anyway at that question. Of all the things he could ask... But she kept her composure, biting back her excitement over something she actually _wanted_ to answer. “My favorite book?” she repeated, to make sure she’d heard him correctly. Surely he didn’t-

“Yeah. I want to know your absolute favorite,” Cassian said adamantly. “I saw you have quite the library of books in your guest room. A lot of good ones, and a few I haven’t read. So, naturally, I’m curious.”

He’d seen her books… he’d _paid attention_ to her books. He’d _read_ some of them. She wondered if he’d looked at all of the titles, if he’d been intrigued or unimpressed by which ones she owned. Little did he know, that shelf was just one of many around her house - she kept all of her favorites in her actual bedroom - but she did have multiple copies of her absolute favorites, some of which were on that shelf.

“Standalone or series?” she asked, masking her enthusiasm with a tight breath in and out.

“How about both?”

At that, Nesta smiled slowly. “The Book Thief for standalone,” she answered without hesitation. "Percy Jackson for series. I know it’s technically a children’s series.”

But instead of making fun of her, Cassian gave her a look of approval. “I’m more of a Harry Potter person, myself,” he pursed his lips, shrugging. "That’s my series. Also, technically for children. Favorite standalone is probably 1984 or Brave New World.”

Before Nesta could respond, the waitress walked up to their table with a tray. Though Nesta didn’t remember ordering food yet… her mouth gaped just a little bit as the waitress set down several plates stacked with pancakes, eggs, waffles, bacon, hashbrowns…

“I know you like breakfast food, and the hostess said this was their specialty here,” Cassian said, nodding to the woman as she placed the final plate down. “I hope this is okay.”

Nesta stared wide-eyed at all of the food as her stomach growled. “My only problem is that I don’t even know where to start.” 

Cassian laughed. “Here, take some pancakes. They’re chocolate chip.”

Loading her plate, Nesta smiled to herself, thinking that she could live on nothing else but breakfast food for the rest of her life and still be completely content. That he’d known that…

“Brave New World and 1984,” she said. “I’ve never read those. But did they teach you some weird sci-fi mind-reading abilities to know exactly what kind of food I wanted?”

He chuckled, but his face burned with her rare complement. “Not quite.”

"I’ve also…” she winced, spooning eggs onto a waffle, not meaning to share this bit of information but… “I’ve never finished the Harry Potter series.”

Cassian looked up, pausing his fork halfway to his mouth, and stared at her like she’d grown ten heads. “Excuse me?"

"I never got past the fourth one..."

"I’m sorry… that’s madness. I might have to leave this date right now,” he said, but as incredulous as he looked… he was laughing. “Did you even _have_ a childhood?"

As Nesta began to explain her logic behind her so-called madness - Percy Jackson _was_ her Harry Potter, so _yes_ , she’d had a childhood - she realized no one had ever asked her about it before. Her childhood. Had never discovered that she’d loved to read from an early age, or asked her what her favorite book had been. Neither of her sisters enjoyed reading as much as she did, and she’d never really had close friends in school to talk about this kind of stuff with. So even though it likely looked like they were having a heated argument, comparing science fiction and fantasy and debating about characters from books they’d both read… Nesta felt herself softening to him. To the idea of this being a regular thing. She was learning a lot about Cassian in the process of this conversation, as he was about her, and she made a mental note to read a few of Cassian’s favorite novels so they’d be able to have these conversations more.

“Dessert, anyone?” the waitress asked, approaching their booth once the food was gone.

Cassian looked to Nesta, but she shook her head vigorously. “I’m full, thank you. And I think those pancakes were dessert enough. So good.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said, placing the check down. “No rush to leave, take your time.”

Both reluctant to step back into the cold, Nesta and Cassian continued talking for a while, laughing loud enough that Nesta was glad no other people had come into the diner. Eventually though, Cassian had paid - he’d insisted - and retrieved his phone before they began walking back to the truck.

Nesta was thankful Cassian had charged his phone, because he’d needed the flashlight on it to see once they got on the narrow, tree-covered road. After a few minutes, Cassian began to play music, too - the same band they had been singing to in the truck.

“So,” Nesta said, looking down to avoid stepping into a particularly deep snowdrift. “I’m curious. What did you really have planned for tonight?”

Cassian watched her for a moment before saying, “Can’t tell you.”

“You’re so annoying. Why?"

“Because,” Cassian reached over and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together and pulling her onto a narrow path of shallower snow. "I’m hoping I can still take you there. Another time."

“Oh.” She looked at their joined hands and felt instantly warmer. “I’d be amenable to that. I guess.”

Cassian just smiled, and they continued walking in comfortable silence.

When they at last found the truck, AAA still hadn’t arrived. Nesta shivered, thinking about how the inside of the car was likely just as cold as the outside. Cassian must have had the same idea, though, because he pulled gently on her hand to bring her close enough for him to wrap his arms around her. 

“How are you so warm?” she mumbled into his coat, wrapping her arms around his waist. “You’re like a human furnace."

He shrugged, and they stood there for a few moments, trying to stay warm. Snow had begun to fall again in light flurries, just enough to coat their hair and shoulders, but the cold was biting without the sun in the sky.

The phone started playing a slower song from the same band, one of Nesta’s favorites, and she sighed contentedly. Cassian seemed to feel the same way about the song, and began to sway gently, moving Nesta’s body with his. 

“What are you doing?” Nesta mumbled.

“Keeping us warm,” he retorted. He was silent for a moment before adding softly, “I wanted to take you dancing tonight, you know."

Nesta tilted her head to look at him. “I hate dancing.”

He peered down at her - so much taller than her, especially this close - and tightened his grip around her waist. “No you don’t.”

She hated that he was right. She only hated the idea of people watching her, but out here… out here, there was no one but the wind and the trees and the two of them, and while she kind of wanted to puke at how cheesy they must look swaying in the dark, freezing and surrounded by snow… it was kind of nice. And she did feel warmer when she was moving.

So, pillowing her head back into his chest, she wordlessly joined his swaying, focusing on his arms around her and the slow beat of the music playing. If she closed her eyes, she didn’t feel so silly. It was as if they weren’t outside, dancing to a song from a phone speaker next to a broken down truck. They were… well, it didn’t really matter where they were, Nesta realized. And that both terrified her and thrilled her. Would she ever do this kind of thing if it hadn’t been with him? She wasn’t sure, but she could make a pretty good guess that no, no she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t ever sing at the top of her lungs or laugh so loudly in a public place or open up about her favorite childhood books or slow dance in the snow… not before today. Not before _him_.

Cassian rested his head in the crook of her neck, placing a featherlight kiss there - a stark contrast to the kisses he’d trailed up and down her neck the last time they danced. This one was comforting, grateful, nowhere near as careful and unsure. If anything, it was almost like a reflex, casual, a kiss given with the assumption of others in the future. Nesta wanted him to do it again, so she tilted her head to give him access. Their signal, which he knew immediately, and he rewarded her with a smile and another lingering kiss on the neck.

 _More, more, more,_ she thought, sliding her hands from his back to his chest and up, circling them around his shoulders. Twining her fingers together behind his neck, she rose up on her toes to brush her nose, and then her lips, at a spot just below his ear. Cassian’s breathing hitched slightly as she smiled against his skin, his hair tickling her cheeks. All he had to do was tilt his head down a few inches -

But instead of making it so no space existed between their lips, Cassian created space between her feet and the ground - and lifted her up. And then she was spinning - _they_ were spinning, as he lifted her higher until her face was above his head. She yelped at the abrupt shift in gravity and Cassian laughed, eventually slowing to a stop but keeping her held tightly in his arms.

“Must you always do this?” she demanded, laughing breathlessly. But her laughter died at the realization that their faces were closer now, and he was looking at her in a way that made her almost want to avert her gaze. She realized that had been the first time she’d laughed all night. Cassian looked awestruck, as if he’d been trying all night and was surprised that this was all it took to make it happen.

When he finally smiled, Nesta found herself looking down at his lips. And when she tried to meet his eyes again, he was staring at hers, too.

Headlights flooded the road then, and Nesta looked over her shoulder with a sigh to see the approaching AAA truck. Cassian placed her back on the ground, but he held her close for another few lingering seconds, savoring them, thinking they’d disappear the moment he stepped away. 

But she knew she was in too deep now to let him fall through the cracks that easily.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note the rating change, friends ;)  
> also why is this chapter 6.5k words? because i am trash. total, complete trash.  
> i've worked two weeks on this and i'm letting it free into the world because i can't read it anymore so ENJOY

It was strange, Nesta thought as Cassian pulled his truck into her driveway, how at peace she felt.

Strange because she often spent her days anxious to come home to her solitude, especially after a long time out with other people. She had never felt anything but eager to shut that front door behind her, even if she’d had the best time with her sisters, or a friend. But as it was, Nesta found that she only wanted to go inside if Cassian was right behind her. She found she didn’t want him to leave - she didn’t feel the pressing need for that relief she usually felt upon being home, didn’t want to shy away from him as he turned to look at her.

And it was strange, because every other time they’d been in this spot, she’d felt on edge for an entirely different reason - _because_ of him. When he’d come to her house that first time with Falcon’s things, she’d fought an internal battle at the idea of him being there - subconsciously wanting him, masking it as disinterest and agitation. That feeling had persisted every time he’d parked in that driveway, smirking and teasing, ever since. And the nerves, the hollow panic of the night she’d told him about Tomas in this spot - that was usually there too. Every time she opened herself up for him, it set her heart racing with that apprehension she felt any time she opened up to anyone. She just assumed it would all remain by association, that coming home with Cassian after this date would make her feel all of those things, on top of all the new emotions she now felt when Cassian looked at her like that.

But instead, it felt... right. Mild, background nerves settled in her stomach, but otherwise, she felt light. Content. And there was a growing flame in her belly when she returning his gaze, hazel eyes igniting something else that burned all the negativity away.

Nesta broke their eye contact for a moment, glancing toward the house and the snow that fell heavier around them now, covering their footsteps from earlier. “Does this snow ever stop?” she murmured, watching a snowflake slide down the window.

Smiling, Cassian turned his attention to shutting off the engine. “Here I was thinking you’d summoned more of it to give me an excuse to stay longer,” he retorted. 

That flame inside Nesta swelled, crackling at the sight of his easy grin and that silent question in his eyes. Not pushing - never pushing - but his intentions were clear enough. And his nerve was bold, she had to give him that... but Nesta could be bolder.

“Shut up and walk me to my door,” she teased, her hand brushing his _accidentally_ as she moved to exit the truck.

Cassian followed suit and they walked together to the front door, neither saying anything, not wanting to break the electric tension that had settled between them. The snow fell and fell, covering them enough that they ended up jogging the last few steps to take refuge under the porch. Just before taking cover, Cassian stuck his tongue out to catch a snowflake, like an overgrown child. 

And Nesta laughed at that - and then laughed at the fact that she even found that to be something worth laughing at. His simple, unrestrained joy about the world was so foreign to her, so ridiculous, but she wanted to absorb it like a sponge, wanted to see the world as he did. And so she laughed. Without having to force it, without inhibitions, she was just - happy.

Cassian had been brushing snow from jacket, but looked up at her at the outburst of laughter. Slowly, that look of awe returned to his face again, the one he gave her every time she laughed. His entire demeanor seemed to brighten as if she were the sun, and he existed just to wait for her to shine. Nesta noticed that there were snowflakes sticking to his hair, to his lashes, and even those seemed to sparkle against the dark hues of his skin. She marveled at the way the snowflakes make his eyes dance as if he’d never seen her before - as if she were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Nesta studied him, no shyness in her gaze as she took in the sheer force of him. _Cassian_. There was so much Nesta hadn’t seen - hadn’t _allowed_ herself to see - in this man before today. Sure, she’d known him to be strong and muscular, dangerous and attractive, and yet… he was so much more. Everything he’d done for her that night - the little things, especially… he’d been so caring, so thoughtful and sweet. And while she enjoyed their usual enmity, the fighting and the teasing, this side of him made her heart race just as much. 

A soft smile formed on his lips, and Nesta just wanted to kiss him already. Such a simple, easy thought that was - the desire to kiss him. And how often had she thought it tonight? She smiled to herself, wanting to laugh again, at how easy it would be to reach up and capture his lips. Cassian looked like he wanted her to just as much as she did. Letting out a breath, he stepped toward her, tilting his chin down to keep his hazel eyes on hers. 

“I want to know what you’re thinking when you smile like that,” he whispered. 

Nesta pressed her lips together, still smiling, realizing that the only reason she wasn’t already kissing him was because she didn’t want the night to end. She wanted him to make her laugh again and wanted to watch his reaction over and over. Cassian raised a curious brow, waiting for her answer.

Sighing, Nesta parted her lips slowly to speak. She didn’t miss the way Cassian glanced down at them. 

“I’m thinking… that I don’t laugh often,” she started, folding one arm over her chest to rub some warmth into her trembling shoulders. "I mean, I will in a really dry, sarcastic sort of way. Not like this, though.”

Cassian huffed a laugh. “I’d noticed."

“But,” she pressed on, unable to keep from rolling her eyes. “I’ve laughed more tonight than I have in… a while. I think it’s because I haven't had this much fun in a really long time,” she finished, her breath forming warm mist in the air between them.

Cassian grinned broadly this time. “Really?” he said excitedly, like a puppy. It made her melt. "It met your high standards?"

Nesta nodded, laughing again - softer this time. "Even though tonight wasn't what you wanted it to be…” She thought back to the teasing in the car, the dinner conversation, the dancing, even the cold trek through the snow to and from the restaurant. How every moment she’d felt light and free and cared for. “It was what I wanted it to be,” she said softly, dropping her arm to her side. "I just wanted to forget about everything for a little while and… and when I'm with you, that’s easy.” Her throat tightened, not used to the honesty coming from her usually guarded heart, but the way his eyes softened gave her a new, unfamiliar desire to send her inhibitions crashing down around them, burning with the fire in her belly. "I honestly don't think I would have enjoyed myself doing any of that with anyone else.”

Not breaking their gaze, Cassian reached for her hand cautiously and laced their fingers together. Her fingertips tingled with the anticipation of getting closer, closer _closer_. “I had fun too,” he said. “Though, to be fair, I think I’d have fun with you if we were literally just going to check out a dumpster together.”

Nesta rolled her eyes again, smiling. And even then, that lightness filled her and made her feel like she was flying. She never wanted the feeling to go away.

Cassian leaned closer, smile fading to something more serious, more intense. He brushed a strand of her snowy hair out of her face. “Did that ruin the moment?” he whispered.

They both knew it hadn’t. The tension between them was so palpable she could reach out and touch it, but they both stood at the edge of that precipice, toes hanging over, knowing what came next. Savoring that feeling, that last bit of the unknown that teased them both so ardently. The quiet before a storm, the silence just before the war drums began the din of battle.

Her hand let go of his so she could press both of them softly to his chest, and Cassian curled one of his around to press against the small of her back and set the other gently on her cheek. “Nesta,” he breathed, and she could feel the warmth from him caress her face. The way he said her name sent her heart flying into her throat. “Can I kiss you?”

She didn’t respond, staring at him for a few breathless moments. Savoring, building, pushing that feeling to its very breaking point. And rather than feeling like the night was ending… Nesta felt like something was beginning. 

Her eyes fluttered closed, wanting to feel the shock of electricity when the gap between them finally closed, wanting to feel herself tumbling right off that cliff into the waiting unknown - no safety harness, no parachute, just his arms as his lips to break her fall. He made her feel that brave.

“I think,” she said, "it’s my turn to kiss _you_ first.” And she leaned in and finally captured his lips with her own.

And it was like someone had thrown gasoline on her, the way that fire flared. Suddenly, there was no snow, no cold - nothing but the feeling of Cassian holding her tightly against him on that front doorstep, kissing her softly, the kindling to her raging inferno. His body pressed closer to hers as her hands moved to the back of his neck, deepening their kiss, needing to feel him all around her.

The kiss was different than the first one they’d shared. That fire was burning between them, strong as ever, but fire had many uses. This fire was the warmth of a furnace rather than the chaos of wildfire. It felt less like desperation and more like... discovery. And Cassian kissed her like there was nothing else he’d rather be doing, like he had all the time in the world to explore her, like that fire would never go out. It left her feeling raw and open but protected in his embrace, and Nesta let herself fall and fall and fall into that feeling of uninhibited passion as his tongue ran along her bottom lip.

She indulged him, opening her mouth for him and running her hands up into his thick curls. Cassian purred, a satisfied rumble deep from his chest, and began to worship her with every caress of his tongue. Nesta lost herself in the feel of him, in the moan that came unbidden from her own throat, in the way he smiled against her lips at his affect on her. And that fire in her was swelling, growing past the point of control and burning her from the inside out, turning the kiss into something hungrier. 

Nesta lowered one hand to the doorknob just behind her, turning it and pushing herself backwards as the door opened, pulling Cassian with her. She had already unzipped his coat by the time he shut the door behind them, their lips never leaving each other. The moment his coat fell to the floor, however, Nesta realized something was wrong. She pulled away reluctantly, breathing hard, chest tightening with the loss of his taste on her tongue… but also with the lack of enthusiastic tail wagging to greet them as they’d stumbled through the front door.

“Where’s Falcon?” she gasped, looking around, panic settling in...

“He’s fine, Nes,” Cassian said quickly, panting, seemingly as out of breath as she. His lips were red and she stared at them, distracted. "Rhys has him. Don’t worry about it.”

Nesta returned her gaze to his eyes and scrunched her brows in confusion. “Rhys?”

“Well yeah, when we got stuck, I honestly wasn’t sure how long we’d be gone,” Cassian said, tightening his arms around her waist to settle her. "I called him at the diner to come get Falcon so he wouldn’t be alone for too long. You know, since Feyre has a key and Rhys's SUV is much better in the snow… I didn’t want to freak you out, so I was going to tell you I took care of him if you started to worry.”

So that meant… "Feyre and Rhys know we’re on a date?”

Cassian chuckled as Nesta blushed, realizing what he could mistake her for implying. That she’d want this to be a secret. That she didn’t want anyone to know about them, that she was embarrassed…

But he only rubbed gentle circles on her back in quiet understanding. “Not quite. I told Rhys I was supposed to pick Falcon up tonight and the truck broke down, so I couldn’t get there. He didn’t ask where you were. So they don’t know yet.” He paused, pushing a strand of hair off of her forehead. “I figured you’d want to tell Feyre."

“Oh, I’m certain she has her suspicions,” Nesta retorted, scoffing, remembering their phone call after the paint night. But she smiled softly. That Cassian would let her have that choice - how and when and who she told about them, and what exactly she wanted to tell them - it meant a lot. Maybe it was because he was considerate, respectful… but seeing his expression, Nesta saw it might be something else. 

He - he didn’t know if she wanted him, in that way. Beyond the physical.

“Are you mad?” he asked, uncertainty in his eyes.

Nesta watched him for a moment, watched to see if he noticed just how much he affected her, just how much she _did_ want him in every way, but he still seemed unsure. “The only thing I’m mad about is that you’re no longer kissing me,” she replied, a smile threatening at the corners of her mouth.

He laughed, and Nesta pressed her lips to his gently, one hand on his cheek, the other still grasping his hair. She pulled away after a moment, regarding Cassian with her serious, stone-steady blue eyes. His gaze was intense with something like anguish, as if he couldn’t stand for them to be apart at that moment, as if he was expecting her to break away and leave him there.

Gentle fingers ran along the stubble on his face, reassuring. “You do know this is real for me too, right?” Nesta whispered. “I’m not going to run away. I’m not ready for this night to be over, not yet.”

Cassian pressed his forehead to hers, his heart beating rapidly against her, mirroring her own. “Trust me, I’m not either.” He blew out a breath. "I plan to do all of those things I said I wanted to do last night. If you want me to, of course.” Her eyelids fluttered heavily as Cassian’s hand on her back pressed them closer. "But I also don’t want it to be… just for tonight, Nesta. I want to be with you.”

Pulling back slightly, Nesta grasped his face in both hands. While never one for expressing her emotions on her face, Nesta knew her eyes would portray exactly what she needed to tell him in that moment. That it wasn’t just tonight for her. That even the idea of this feeling only lasting for one night made her feel sick, made her long for the feel of his lips on hers again, if only to savor the taste of him.

“You promised me a second date, prick,” she managed, the insult coming out softer than she’d anticipated, more endearing. “You'd better keep your promises, or this relationship won’t-“

He surprised her by crashing his lips into hers, her beath catching in her throat as his tongue swept into her mouth. And this kiss - it was much more the twin to the one they’d shared in this exact spot last night. Flames blazed in her core as Cassian moved forward to press her against the railing, tugging her scarf off with a strong hand as they went. He broke away to trail slow kisses up her newly exposed neck, and Nesta smiled as she tilted her head back. He lingered at each brush of his lips - softly at first, and then more firmly, sucking and surely leaving marks -

Nesta let out a breathless sound, her head tilting farther back, fully baring herself to him -

Cassian reached up, gently grabbing the back of her head before she nearly smacked it on the railing, a soft laugh vibrating against her skin. Nesta cursed, and he chuckled again as he pressed another soft kiss just below her ear. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart,” he said into her skin, and she sighed, bringing her leg up along his own, grinding just enough to make him hiss-

-and twirled out of his grip, grabbing his hand and pulling him along behind her. She crept toward the stars and stepped up onto the first one as she turned to face him. Slowly, she dropped his hand, only to unbutton her coat and fling it over the railing, eyes never leaving his. And she began stepping up one step at a time, nodding to indicate that he should follow. 

Cassian just stared at her, walking forward slowly, such desire on his face that Nesta could tell he was holding himself back. 

But she didn’t want him to.

“Remind me again,” Nesta breathed, grabbing his hand again and tugging, “exactly what you wanted to do with me?” 

Cassian grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up - whether it was the third or fourth or fifth time that night, Nesta didn’t know or care - and she wrapped her legs around him fully as he kissed her again. They ascended the stairs, Nesta trusting him not to fall or drop her, but also not really thinking about that as she felt him already hard against her. As they made it to the top, Nesta dropped her legs and began to walk backwards toward her bedroom, pulling him along by the front of his shirt as she sucked lightly on his bottom lip.

When they finally entered her room, Nesta put her hands to better use and began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing those spiraling tattoos on his chest. He groaned her name, lifting her once she was finished and kissing her hungrily as her legs wrapped around his waist again. Nesta ran her hands over him, memorizing the dips and curves of his muscular chest, reveling in the warmth coming from him and the way he held her tighter to him with every brush of his tongue in her mouth.

After a few minutes, Cassian carried her to her bed, gently laying her down onto her sheets. He kicked his shoes off before crawling up to hover over her, his face softening, his eyes blazing, and Nesta’s stomach tightened in anticipation of what those eyes promised. He paused for a moment, still watching her, as he tied his hair up in a bun at the nape of his neck. Nesta whined unwittingly, and Cassian - the bastard - smirked like he knew exactly what it did to her. He leaned down to kiss her softly, once, twice, pieces of his black hair falling out of the bun to tickle her face as Nesta’s hands threaded through the bun. That sinful, extremely hot man bun.

“Remind me,” Nesta repeated in a breathless whisper between kisses. Cassian smiled, kissing her for a long moment before speaking. 

"I want to see you.” Cassian’s voice was low and seductive, making Nesta shiver under him. He reached down and fingered the hem of her dress, the back of his hand brushing along her upper thigh and his eyes meeting hers to seek permission to continue. Nesta urged her hips up in response, allowing Cassian’s hand to slip under the dress. 

He grinned down at her, bringing his mouth back to hers as he placed both hands under her dress to begin slowly, slowly sliding it up the length of her body. Those calloused hands sent shivers down her spine and straight through to her core.

Cassian nipped at her bottom lip, teasing her for her reaction, before pulling back to watch as he brought the dress up, up, and helped it over her head. And Nesta felt - she should have shrunk down under his gaze, should have wanted to cover herself with the intensity of those eyes as he took in the skin he’d never seen before, and the lace she’d worn for the occasion, but -

“Nesta,” he breathed, meeting her eyes. "You’re beautiful.” 

And she felt only that fire, burning her from the inside out, felt only the desire for more, felt only _him_. When he lowered his head, slowly, to kiss her neck, her collarbone, and just above the lace, sucking gently, Nesta moaned, her self control falling away completely. 

One hand found its way to her bare stomach, inching up, palming at her breast over the bra, and Nesta snapped. Grabbing his other hand from where it rested beside her head, she bought it down, down to the band of her tights. She needed _more_ , dammit, and the brute was determined to take his sweet time, it seemed.

Cassian raised his head up and gave her another questioning look, but Nesta only urged him on with a push against his wrist. “You said you wanted to see me. These are a matching set,” she said, nodding to indicate where his head had just been. “And I’m burning alive in these tights. Off, off, off.”

“You’ll be the death of me, Nes,” he growled as he pulled her tights down, faster this time, revealing the lace underwear that matched her bra. She somehow managed to kick her boots off as Cassian pulled her tights all the way off and sat back, drinking her in, flushed skin and navy lace and hair sprawled over the pillow, long having come loose from the braid.

When he didn’t move, Nesta sat up slowly, inching forward so that she straddled his lap. Her hair fell in a curtain around their faces as she pressed her forehead to his, reveling in the feeling of his bare skin against her. Cassian captured her lips again, hands roaming, and eventually slowly coming up over her bra again, feeling her, exploring her. She bit his lip when his hands came up to her shoulders, fingers slowly, tauntingly threading underneath the straps there.

It was a question as much as it was a challenge… and Nesta almost said _please_ , but even as unwound as she was, she wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of her begging. Instead she arched her back, hands roaming to his belt loops and pulling him closer, closer, feeling his hard length pressed against her core as the straps of her bra fell from her shoulders. 

Chuckling darkly, but mercifully taking the hint, Cassian had her bra off and discarded behind him in a few moments. Nesta gasped as his thumb brushed over one peaked nipple, his other hand coming up to cover her other breast, squeezing gently. And she responded by grinding on that length - needing it, craving it. 

He pulled away from her lips to kiss his way down - yes, she'd definitely have marks on her collarbone in the morning, that much was certain - and continued trailing a path of kisses and bites before taking that peaked nippled into his mouth, sucking gently and brushing his tongue over her. 

“Cassian,” she gasped, pulling on his belt loops until she was once again flat on her back under him, his mouth moving to caress her other breast, nipping kisses all over her chest, down her stomach, and back up again to meet her lips once more.

Nesta moved her hands around to his backside, pushing them closer, continuing to grind on him, needing to relieve the ache in her core, to douse the fire that threatened to burn her entire room to dust. Cassian cursed, one hand pinching her nipple in retaliation and he moved the other hand to pin her hip to the bed. His touch was a million sparks, burning her so close to where she wanted him -

It was too hot - it was stifling, and Nesta felt herself flush with that heat as she squirmed beneath Cassian. But another dark chuckle - a flicker of male satisfaction at how he was making her come apart evident in his voice - ignited a need to even the playing field. They always needed to keep each other at the edge in this game of theirs - even now, even so vulnerable and bare and trusting, that was their game - so Nesta’s hands moved and began fumbling with the button on his jeans. 

“Sweetheart,” he inhaled sharply, hissing, as her hands brushed over him. But before she could go any further in her exploration, Cassian grabbed her hands and, interlacing their fingers, brought them up beside her head. As his gaze met hers in the dark, one hand let go, journeying lower to begin playing at the band of that lace - and that next reminder was waiting on the tip of his tongue for whenever she was ready. He brushed his thumb over her thigh slowly, a challenge, drinking in her gaze as much as he had her body. Somehow, this felt more intimate. 

“I want to touch you,” he whispered, one finger coming dangerously, deliciously close to the wetness between her thighs.

“And what if I want to touch _you_?” Nesta replied, too breathless for her liking.

Cassian kissed her softly. “You can touch me all you want after I make you scream my name a few times,” he replied. Nesta swallowed thickly, trying to come up with a retort but falling short as her core throbbed. His hands continued teasing her, torturing her… what those hands were about to do to her, she couldn’t - 

He brushed the wetness on the lace, so lightly, and she gasped, unable to resist him any longer. She managed a staggering inhale before nodding.

But he took his time - kissing her first, slowly, sucking at her jaw as his fingers slid that waistband lower and lower until he had to break away from her to push the lace all the way down. He watched her face the entire time, even as he settled himself between her legs. 

A finger trailed along the inside of her thigh, featherlight and chill-inducing, and Nesta gripped the sheets, watching him even as his gaze stayed on hers. “You’re incredible, Nesta,” Cassian said, his unoccupied hand moving up the sheets to grab one of hers again. He laced their fingers together as his other hand finally brushed where she wanted. His touch was so gentle and yet her entire body felt like lava melting beneath him as one finger ran over her - once, twice, three times. 

“Cass-“

He filled her with one finger and she keened off the bed, his name breaking off in a soundless intake of breath. Cassian cursed, and Nesta realized he must be just as undone as her, just as addled and flustered and gone. 

Slowly, Cassian began to move his finger inside her. It was torture, the best kind of torture, but Nesta needed faster - and then his mouth was against her upper thigh, smiling, reveling in the way her body begged for more. Nesta opened her eyes to shoot him a glare, and Cassian increased his pace immediately. Her eyes fluttered closed, and when he curled his finger inside her, she bit her lip hard and finally elicited an audible moan.

“That’s it, Nes,” Cassian praised, placing a soft kiss on her hip. His mouth so close to her - it made her tremble so hard that Cassian had to release her hand to hold her hips down. Nesta gripped the sheets again, harder than before, breath coming in gasps as he added a second finger.

Nesta wasn’t sure she’d ever felt anything like this - she’d done this before, but it was never so passionate, never so… so…

“Nesta.” Cassian’s voice was lower than she’d ever heard it and she bucked her hips again. “Tell me what you want, Sweetheart.”

Never so considerate. So attentive. So… loving.

Her heart lurched and she shoved that thought back, back, back as he kissed her thigh, so close, so close, so close. That third and final reminder - “I want to worship you, Nesta” - fell off his lips in a desperate exhale against her skin, and she squirmed to move him just close enough -

“Tell me -"

“Your tongue,” she breathed, hands threading through his hair. “Kiss me, Cass. Now."

Cassian didn’t even hesitate as he removed his fingers, found that jewel between her legs with his thumb, and circled her at the same time his mouth found her center.

Nesta cried out as he indeed kissed her, and swiped his tongue through her folds before he pushed it into her. The feel of that tongue, his stubble against her thighs, the way he gripped her hips and the way he moaned at the taste of her - it was all too much, too overwhelming. Her hands tightened into fists in his hair, needing to ground herself to something, as she rocked her hips against him.

She let out a string of curses as he sucked gently, his tongue pulsing in and out as his fingers had been moments before, his thumb still insistent on her center. She was building up faster and faster, burning to a boiling point, needing -

When his tongue found her clit, she went over the edge, her head tilted back and his name on her lips.

But he didn’t stop - it was like he couldn’t get enough of the taste of her, and Nesta rode her wave of pleasure only to find another building in its wake. He was watching her now, peering up at her from between her legs and Nesta felt herself burn and burn and burn as their eyes met. His pupils were blown with lust, his hair mostly loose from his bun and hanging in his face, and he kept his eyes glued to hers as his teeth scraped against her, once, twice -

And Nesta fell apart again.

When she could hardly catch her breath, when her thighs ached from clenching around his head so hard, Cassian slid back up over her and brushed her damp hair from her face. He pressed a soft kiss against her lips, and Nesta could taste herself on him, could feel how much harder he was now as he pressed himself closer. “Take your pants off,” she demanded against his mouth, arms running over his back and down to grab his ass.

This time, Cassian didn’t argue - he shed his pants in one motion, freeing himself. Nesta’s mouth went dry as she looked at him, but she only smirked and planted another kiss on his lips as she took him in her hand.

“Shit, Nesta,” Cassian groaned as her thumb ran over the head, feeling him, memorizing him, toying with him even as she was again building up that fire in her core. She pumped once, twice, slowly twisting her wrist as she bit at his neck, making him curse again. That filthy mouth - Nesta bit her lip as she guided him to press against her, meeting his eyes, telling him without words what she wanted.

With another curse, Cassian leaned over to grab a condom so conveniently left on her nightstand and made quick work of putting it on. She kissed him, hard, tongue and teeth clashing before pushing on his shoulder and flipping them over so she was laying on top.

Her eyes held a dare as they met his, but it was one he seemed willing to take as his hands grabbed her hips and he teased at her entrance. Nesta gasped in a breath, but he paused, one hand coming up run through her hair again, gently. His hand moved down, slowly, caressing her cheek, down to cup her breast, and finally circled around her waist, holding her tightly against him.

She watched him for a moment, again letting the tension build between them so the release would be that much more cataclysmic, that much more explosive. Cassian’s chest rose and fell in deep breaths against hers, and she let her hands run over those tattoos slowly, greedy in her touches, knowing it wouldn’t be the last time - but a beginning. With him. Who would have thought, just months ago, they’d be here and she’d be feeling so comfortable with him - with _Cassian_ of all people - feeling so cared for, burning for him as she usually burned with ire and stubborn will?

Hazel eyes burned into her own, searching. “Are you sure, Sweetheart?” Cassian asked, likely seeing the storm of emotions in her own eyes, and Nesta melted that much more for him at the way he said that nickname. Like it was the most precious word in the world, reserved only for her and no one else. 

She nodded, angling her hips against him. “I want this, Cassian,” she said. "I want you.” Her hands cupped her back of his neck and he kissed her wrist, making her heart skip a beat. Nesta leaned forward, kissing his cheek, and whispered in his ear, “Let me show you how much.”

And she slid down onto him, slowly, forehead pressed to his and hands gripping in his curls. Nesta gasped as he filled her and Cassian’s mouth found hers, swallowing the sound, narrowing their world to the feeling of them.

He fit so tightly, and deeply, and Nesta couldn’t help the breathless moan that escaped her throat. Cassian groaned, giving her a moment to adjust, but Nesta needed more. Her hips began rocking against his, slowly at first, but Nesta had never known pleasure like this… so her movements soon became desperate. She clutched at his hair so tightly she was surely pulling it, but that only seemed to urge Cassian on as he matched her pace, thrusting into her from underneath. His hands roamed freely over her body, memorizing her, his touch sending sparks down her spine as callouses scraped sensitive skin. 

Nesta struggled to catch her breath as Cassian pushed a little deeper, held onto her a little tighter, kissed her a little harder. She whimpered, trying hard not to cry out, not just yet, never removing her mouth from his, if only to stifle the sounds that threatened to spill from her throat. He groaned into their kiss, his hands guiding the movement of her hips as he thrust into her harder, fingers gripping nearly enough to bruise.

But never to harm her - no, as desperately as they gripped each other, Cassian still let her guide them, knew that this was how Nesta needed to do this. Knew that she had to had some semblance of control, at least until she decided to give it up, and after everything she’d been through... that would take trust. Cassian knew this, saw through her walls enough to know. That he cared so much, enough to let her choose how this would be - Nesta trusted him. Completely.

And this - this was where Nesta realized how deeply she had fallen. Because she’d never ever trusted someone like this. Because as much as she felt her emotions, as often as her rage and despair and excitement and love festered inside, she never let those emotions show. 

But now - now she poured them all out of her in the way she caressed his face, the way she swept her tongue between his lips, the way she moved reverently against him, and the way she allowed him past her walls and into her heart.

“Cassian,” she allowed herself to moan his name as his hips ground into her clit, fire flaring in her core. When he breathed her name out in a gasp in response, guttural and utterly lost, she made her decision. Mouth still hot over his, she moved her hands to grip Cassian's shoulders and pulled him so that he was on top, pressing her into the mattress. 

And she relinquished control - something she’d never done before - as her legs wrapped tightly around him. Something soft and vulnerable flickered in his eyes before they grew feral, and he began to snap his hips against hers at an angle that made her vanquish all pretext of willpower to finally cry out.

She was aflame and she was burning alive and he was right there with her, molten into one as both lost themselves in each other and in sweat and in warm hands roaming hot skin. Too hot, too hot, too hot.

“Fuck, Nesta, I-“ he swallowed, thrusting harder, his thumb finding and circling her clit, and Nesta fell over the edge with a cry of his name before he could finish his sentence. He followed her a few strokes later, lips on her neck as they both rode their waves of pleasure together, as they held onto each other while the flames swelled and calmed.

They collapsed into the embers of that fire together, breathing hard and pressed close. And Nesta felt herself smile into his chest - felt his own answering grin in the crook of her neck. Cassian lifted his head to meet her gaze, eyes softened once again, and Nesta leaned up to kiss him - a long, slow kiss that had her melting in the lingering heat, followed by Cassian's gentle kiss on her forehead. 

“Told you I’d make you scream my name,” he whispered against her skin.

Nesta laughed - it was beginning to feel more normal now. “Prick.”

“I may be a prick,” he said, rolling to the side and gathering her in his arms, “but I’m your prick.”

Nesta hummed, smiling, “I guess.”

Used to her teasingly evasive comments, she supposed, he only kissed her again. 

When Cassian held her closer, her head resting against his shoulder, Nesta was far too tired to tell him she didn’t usually like to cuddle (with humans - dogs were fine). But she also realized that this felt different, somehow, and she found she didn't want to pull away. His arms felt like home around her, loose enough to give her space but warm and comforting. She fell asleep hoping she’d never have to sleep any other way ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why was this only the first time i ever wrote nessian smut...?  
> comments give me life, friends <3


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